


The Ares Project

by ElysiumDreams



Category: CLC (Band), MXM (Band), NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Red Velvet (K-pop Band), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Amnesia, Assassin School, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, minor ongniel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElysiumDreams/pseuds/ElysiumDreams
Summary: As the only son of one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in all of Taiwan, Lai Guanlin has too often found himself as the target of assassins and mercenaries. Struggling with amnesia and determined to learn how to protect himself, Guanlin enlists into the Ares Project, a top secret program meant to help train his skills in self defense and combat.Little does he know that the program is full of students all with the same goal: kill Lai Guanlin, and the program will grant any wish that you desire. With assassins hunting him at every corner, Guanlin is left uncertain of who to trust and who to be weary of; who wants his life and who wishes to help him out of this alive?





	1. ONE.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright Panwinkies, buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.
> 
> I know what you're thinking. I have like 500 fics to update, and I'm starting another? I'm SO sorry, I really am, but this idea just dawned on me and I had to write it? It's a challenge for myself, to not only write something that's cheesy romantic, but also to try some wordbuilding and slow burn, two things I've always wanted to try out but I find that I usually fail OTL.
> 
> Anyways! I'm really going to give this a go. Everything is plotted out, and I'll try to update frequently. My only issue is I'm not well versed in the world of business, so if something seems amiss there, I do apologize, and hope the story is still enjoyable despite! 
> 
> I took some inspiration from the anime Akuma no Riddle, the Hunger Games, and Fairy Tail, but you don't have to watch any of those to understand this. If you're confused, this story IS Panwink, but it does have a heavy focus on Guanlin as the main character. 
> 
> Please enjoy the first chapter!

Guanlin wakes to the sound of beeping, and pristine white walls surrounding him. 

For a moment, he’s almost blinded by the brightness of the room, and it takes him a few seconds before he’s able to adjust and look around. Judging by the uncomfortable bed he lies on, and the uncomfortable IV in his arm, he figures that he’s in an infirmary of some sort. However, the room seems void of any kind of objects that would indicate where he is. But this is no ordinary hospital, he figures. It seems too eerily quiet for that.

Finally, a voice reaches his ears.

“You’re awake.”

At the words, Guanlin turns to his left. It takes him a moment, but he realizes the words aren’t in his native tongue. Is it… Korean? Korean, yes, that’s what he had heard. Curiously, he looks up at the man that had spoken to him. Standing there and clicking away at a monitor is a rather tall-looking gentleman, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him before he turns to Guanlin, and he’s able to get a good look at his face. 

The man before him is quite handsome, Guanlin thinks. With sleek eyes, a pair of thin glasses sitting on his high nose bridge, and soft, plump lips, if this guy is a doctor, then he certainly puts the actors that he sees on TV to shame. As his eyes lock with his, he smiles softly before taking a seat at Guanlin’s bedside.

“Where am I…? And who are you?” Guanlin asks. He hardly recognizes his own voice. It sounds so tired and sluggish.

“Good, you remember how to speak Korean, at least. I’m Minhyun,” the man introduces himself. “As for where you are right now… We’ll get to that in a bit,” he promises as he picks up a clipboard sitting on the bedside table. His eyes scan over a few of the papers. “I have a few questions I want to ask you first, Lai Guanlin.” 

Lai Guanlin. Right. That’s his full name. At least, that’s what Minhyun is telling him… He’s not quite sure, but Minhyun seems certain in his delivery, so perhaps he should believe him for now. Nonetheless, a sense of dread fills Guanlin at the thought of being interrogated so suddenly. Is he in trouble? Has something happened?

Still, he nods obediently, or at least, attempts to nod. His neck is at a strangely uncomfortable angle, with the pillow beneath him propping his head up a little. 

Minhyun looks at the papers on his clipboard again, then looks up at Guanlin. “Are you in any pain?”

“Pain?” Guanlin asks, and the older nods in confirmation. “Well… No, not really. I feel perfectly fine. My head hurts a little but, other than that… No pain.” 

He doesn’t mention the slight discomfort from the IV in his arm, however. That’s just a minor nuisance, and he’s sure he can ignore it for now. 

With his answer, Minhyun hums, then makes some notes on his clipboard. “Okay. Next question… Do you know how you got here?”

Guanlin blinks then. How he got here? He looks around again, blinking at the white walls that surround him, and somehow make him feel trapped. It doesn’t help at all, so in contrast, he closes his eyes; perhaps the black that he sees behind his eyelids will help jog his memory, but he comes up blank then as well. He opens them back up as he looks at Minhyun, shaking his head sadly. “No,” he confirms. “I don’t know anything.”

An uncomfortable feeling starts to settle in. What does it mean? The fact that he can’t remember anything? He starts to dread Minhyun’s next question, eyes settling on the pen on Minhyun’s hand as he scribbles away.

Finally, he looks up again, removing his glasses as he stares at Guanlin. There’s a sense of sincerity in his eyes; Minhyun seems concerned about his wellbeing, but there’s also determination, as if he’s looking for something in Guanlin, and it only serves to make the younger even more dreadful and confused. “Last question,” he begins.

“Do you know who you are?”

And that’s when the panic sets… Does he know who he is? All he has is a name… Lai Guanlin, and hell, he only knows his surname because Minhyun had given it to him. He draws a blank on everything else— his past, his memories… He can’t remember a thing. 

With an alarmed look in his eyes, he looks over at Minhyun again, shaking his head, drowning in his own disbelief. “... No.” 

Minhyun sucks in a breath then before nodding in understanding. He begins writing on his clipboard again, and Guanlin just wishes he’d put the stupid thing away and tell him what’s going on, who he is and why he has Guanlin here; why Guanlin can’t remember a thing and what had happened that had caused him to end up here in the first place.

Finally, he puts the board down, leaning forward and looking down at Guanlin. The comforting look in Minhyun’s eyes has disappeared, and as he speaks, he can see that the man means nothing but business now, his words hitting Guanlin like a train.

“You…” Minhyun begins. “You are Lai Guanlin, the son of the wealthiest and most powerful businessman in all of Taiwan. You were in a car accident, and you suffered a brain injury that’s caused you amnesia. While you’ve retained your education of things such as language and mathematics, it seems that you have no recollection of your past.” 

Minhyun continues to speak, but Guanlin stops listening at the word amnesia. Amnesia… No. Amnesia isn’t real, Guanlin thinks. Amnesia only happens in movies, and in cheesy romantic ones at that. People don’t suffer amnesia in real life. There’s no way that he’s really lost all of his memories— he’ll go back to sleep and they’ll all come flooding back to him, he’s sure of it. Right now, he’s just tired, right now is probably just a dream, he thinks. Amnesia… There’s no way. There’s no way in hell—

“Guanlin, are you listening to me?”

Guanlin snaps out of it then with a gasp. Minhyun’s eyes are focused on him, brow raised in concern. But Guanlin doesn’t trust the look in his eye— how can he trust anything he’s saying? There’s still no way he has amnesia, and he’s certain of it. 

He shakes his head then, brows furrowing in disbelief. “You’re wrong…” Guanlin swallows. “You’re lying to me.”

At this, Minhyun sighs, pursing his lips a little. “Guanlin, I know it’s hard to believe right now, but you have to relax. You’ll only stress yourself out even more, and right now, you just need to rest.” 

“But I--!” He stops himself there, however, words failing him as the realization of the situation he’s in truly dawns on him. Right now, he’s afraid and uncertain, and while Minhyun comes across as trustworthy, he’s still hesitant of the other. He doesn’t know his intentions, has hardly given him any information about himself either. Still, Minhyun is the only person he has right now. 

“What happened to my family?” he asks instead, trying to mask the unease in his voice. 

Minhyun looks down then, biting his lip. “They didn’t survive the accident.”

Ah. No wonder he’s so alone, why it’s only him and Minhyun in this barren room. He thinks that perhaps he should cry, feel sadness of some sort, and to an extent, he does… But he can’t even remember his family. How can he be upset over people he does not know? ‘

And that’s where the sadness stems from, from knowing that he can’t even remember his own family. It settles like an ache in his heart that he can’t ease no matter how he tries, yet he remains calm on the exterior, showing no emotion at Minhyun’s words.

“I see…” he finally speaks, voice barely above a whisper. “Then me… What’s going to happen to me?”

“We can talk about that later,” Minhyun says, straightening up and collecting his clipboard again. He slips his glasses on and brushes off his robes, taking one last glance in Guanlin’s direction. “I want you to get some rest first before I tell you any more of what’s going on here—”

“No.”

Minhyun freezes then; Guanlin’s voice is so firm and demanding that it stops the older man in his tracks. The tone surprises even Guanlin himself, but he continues on, glaring up at Minhyun while he still has his attention. “No. I want to know what’s going on right now. I don’t need to be babied, I just want to know what I’m doing here, and what you’re planning to do with me. Who are you, and why should I trust you? I answered your questions, so you should answer mine, now.”

The doctor— no, Minhyun isn’t a doctor. Guanlin is positive of that somehow. He doesn’t give off the right vibe. There is something that Minhyun wants from him, and it goes far beyond some kind of doctor/patient relationship. Guanlin wants to know what it is. Minhyun chuckles then before he sits in his chair again, an amused smile spreading over his lips. “You’re just as stubborn as always, I see… Very well. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen to you. Listen up, Guanlin.”

And so Guanlin prepares himself for the worst.

“Your family’s company, Lai Corporations, is undoubtedly one of the most powerful companies in the world. But that doesn’t mean that it has a strong foundation, or even an ethical one, at that.”

At his words, Guanlin frowns. “Are you saying my family participated in illegal businesses?”

“In the past, yes,” Minhyun confirms. “Your father perhaps didn’t, but throughout the company’s long history, it certainly hasn’t always been smooth sailing. As a result, your family has accumulated quite a few enemies along the way.”

“Enemies?” Guanlin furrows his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means there are people that want to see you dead, Guanlin.”

Dead. The word chills Guanlin to the bone, sending a shiver down his spine. Perhaps he should have waited to hear all this information, save it for a time when he’s not being overwhelmed with information as it is. But he thinks it’s better do it all now, rip it off like a band-aid and get it all over with in one shot. Still, knowing that he’s got a target on his very existence is unsettling, no matter the circumstances.

“You seem pretty shaken up,” Minhyun notes then. “Do you want me to continue?”

Guanlin nods without skipping a beat. He’ll hear this all out, even if it leaves him sleeping with his eyes wide open tonight. “What does all of that have to do with you then? Are you one of my enemies?”

Minhyun chuckles. “You can believe that if you want. I’m just here to help you.”

“Help me how? All you’ve told me is that people want me dead, I don’t even know where I am and what you want from me!” Guanlin exclaims exasperatedly. Frustration has started to settle in, and he just wants answers, wants to know what’s going to happen to him from here on out.

For a moment, Minhyun is silent. He stares blankly at Guanlin, and Guanlin feels a little discomfort settle before Minhyun finally breathes, nodding at the younger male. “Alright. I need you to listen very carefully.”

Guanlin’s eyes never leave Minhyun as he speaks.

“As I told you, my name is Hwang Minhyun, and I’m the head of a secret program called the Ares Project. Here, we train young adults to become assassins. You’re currently in the infirmary of our training grounds, and you’ve been brought here so you can learn to defend yourself from enemies of your business.”

And that’s when Guanlin is certain that he must be dreaming. Nothing that Minhyun has told him thus far has made any sense, from his amnesia to him being the son of a wealthy family, and now assassins? A mistake is being made, Guanlin is being lied to… Not a word that Minhyun speaks seems at all believable. 

And The Ares Project.

Training people to become assassins? That doesn’t sound illegal at all, Guanlin thinks sarcastically. 

“Assassins?” he snorts. “This is a joke, right? At first you tell me I’m the son of a powerful businessman, and now you’re telling me you’ve got me locked up in some kind of assassin training program. Does that not sound a little wacky to you?”

“People enter this program for various reasons,” Minhyun explains. “Most because it’s a family thing, some because they just want to become assassins. And then there are people like you, who learn the art of assassination for pure self-defense. If you have enemies constantly coming for you like you do, they’ll certainly keep coming after you if you don’t learn how to defend yourself. For you, it’s kill or be killed, Guanlin.”

He doesn’t like the sound of that. It puts an uneasy feeling in his chest, but he allows Minhyun to continue on anyways, keeping quiet for now.

“Anyways, that’s why you’re here. So we can train you to protect yourself,” Minhyun says. “It’s completely voluntary. If you would rather not participate, then we can send you back to your family’s business right away. You’ll learn the tricks of the trade, be at the top of the company at… How old are you now? Ah, right… Seventeen. But you’ll be vulnerable. Who knows how long you’re going to last out there on your own?”

And that’s when Guanlin starts to realize that Minhyun truly isn’t just a pretty face that he knows nothing about. As the head of a program that trains assassins, for goodness’ sake, he’s certain that Minhyun is cold and calculated, manipulative and well-versed in lying and getting what he wants. 

Still, Guanlin feels inclined to trust his word. Perhaps it’s the threat he’s placed on him, the idea that if he doesn’t go on with this program, that he won’t last a minute in the real world. Guanlin isn’t sure if he had feared death before his amnesia had struck, but in this moment… Death doesn’t seem all that appealing. Not at all. 

He glares at Minhyun, huffing hatefully at the older. Still, Minhyun just smiles, and Guanlin wants to smack the look off of his face; the bastard knows he’s won, and that he’s got Guanlin right where he wants him.

“I’ll let you sleep on it,” Minhyun announces as he stands again, tall and proud. “In the morning, come see me with your decision, and we can decide on what to do with you after that.”

With that, Minhyun leaves him, surrounded by nothing but mockingly white walls and the tauntingly loud sound of his heart monitor beeping, echoing and reminding him of his own, sad mortality.

—

Guanlin doesn’t sleep on his decision at all. 

In fact, he stays up all night, wracked with his own paranoia, just as expected. On top of that, he’s still trying to fit all of the puzzle pieces together, come to terms with what’s happened to him. Amnesia… A car accident… And now he’s suddenly being thrust into program meant to train assassins. All of it is too much for him, too overwhelming and frightening.

He only knows it’s morning when an unfamiliar face cracks open the door of the infirmary and makes his way to his bed, smiling brightly at him.

At first, he thinks it might be Minhyun, already coming to collect him and hear his decision. It’s too early, Guanlin thinks. He needs more time to think, more time to figure out what he wants to do.

But this man certainly isn’t Minhyun. This man radiates warmth more than anything, and as he sits beside Guanlin and smiles at him, he feels more at ease than he’s ever felt since his awakening yesterday. 

“Good morning,” the man chirps happily. “I hope you slept well?”

Guanlin just nods, still trying to figure this man out. Is he a part of the Ares Project too? He seems so different than Minhyun, already so gentle and welcoming, a stark contrast to how serious and stern Minhyun had been. Must have sent the wrong welcoming committee, he thinks to himself.

“Good!” the other hums delightedly. “My name is Jisung, I’m the head doctor here at the Ares Project.”

Ah, the doctor. Jisung had probably been the one to nurse him back to full health after the accident. It’s a shame he couldn’t do anything about the amnesia, but Guanlin figures he can’t complain. After all, he doesn’t feel like he’s been in an accident. He feels as if he can roll out of bed and walk in a perfectly straight line if he wanted to, and if that healing had been Jisung’s doing… Well then Guanlin certainly owes him more credit. 

Still, just knowing that he’s with the program… Guanlin isn’t sure what to think.

“Oh…” the younger mutters quietly. “I’m Guanlin. It’s nice to meet you..?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Jisung hums before he unexpectedly reaches out, placing his index and middle finger against Guanlin’s neck. His fingers are cold, and they cause him to gasp in surprise. “I’m just checking your vitals, making sure it’s alright for you to get out of bed this morning. You should be fully healed with no lasting injuries, but I just want to make sure. Then we can get you going for the day; Minhyun wants to see you as soon as possible.”

Guanlin frowns at the other’s name, and Jisung certainly doesn’t miss it. He chuckles softly before he untangles the stethoscope from around his neck, placing the eartips into his ears before pressing the bell against Guanlin’s chest. “I know he seems scary, but he’s a good guy. He just needs to loosen up a little, that’s all.”

Guanlin has his doubts about Jisung’s words, but he decides not to comment on it.

“Alright, you’re looking good! Let’s just remove this…” Jisung exclaims, reaching for Guanlin’s wrist and removing the tape that had been holding the IV cord down. Ah, he had forgotten about that. Jisung pulls it out carefully before wrapping a little gauze around it so it won’t bleed out. 

Smiling at his handiwork, Jisung looks up proudly at the younger. “Perfect! You’re all set! Let’s get you out of bed and on your feet huh? Careful, you’ve been bedridden for some time now, so walking might feel a little weird at first, but you’ll get used to it pretty quickly.

With no more wires attached to him, Guanlin feels a little bit more free than he had before (the white walls are undoubtedly still a little suffocating, he thinks). Carefully, he sits up. There’s an annoying knot in his neck from the awkward position he had been lying in, but he ignores it as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching out to hold Jisung’s hand as he stands.

Jisung had been right, it feels strange to finally be upright after such a long period of being bedridden. His knees feel a little weak, and he almost forgets how to put one foot in front of the other, but Jisung helps him out. They walk in small circles around the room until Guanlin gets a feel for it, and can finally start walking on his own again. Guanlin realizes then how tall he is— it’s not like he towers over Jisung, but he’s still got a few centimeters on him. He wonders how he’ll compare next to someone like Minhyun, who had seemed pretty tall when he had first met him. Guanlin isn’t so sure about it though.

“I think I’m good now, Jisung-hyung,” Guanlin hums, standing in the center of the room on his own. His head no longer spins, and he’s able to comfortably walk on his own. Beside him, Jisung claps happily.

“This is good! Well let’s get you changed and ready for the day, hm? It is a little later in the day, so lunchtime will be up soon, but Minhyun wants to see you before you eat...— I know, sorry, I told him you should eat first, but he was adamant—”

Jisung trails on, and Guanlin watches him as he paces over to a stark whie cabinet. He digs around for a bit before he finally closes it up, returning to Guanlin with some fresh clothes for him to change into. All black, unsurprisingly. He takes the clothes as Jisung hands it to him, smiling softly at the older. “Thank you.”

“No problem!” the doctor exclaims. “That door right there is a bathroom. I’ll let you get changed, and then I’ll lead you to Minhyun’s office, sound good to you?”

At his words, Guanlin nods before heading off to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He flips the light on, and the first sight he’s met with is one that shocks him greatly.

Himself.

The mirror before him is wide, cleaned so nice and sparkly that Guanlin can almost see even pore upon his pale porcelain skin. But the person in front of his is unrecognizable. and Guanlin is unsure if it’s because of the amnesia, or if he’s just been out for that long. He’s quite thin, he notes, possibly a lot thinner than he had been before the accident. And his eyes look tired and dry, as if he hasn’t slept properly in days, when in reality, he’s done nothing but sleep. His thick dark hair is unruly and unkempt, but it’s nothing a quick wash and a brush can’t fix. He’ll worry about that later though.

Still, his appearance, along with Minhyun’s words from yesterday truly have him wondering… If there are really people out there who want him dead, then how long can someone like him last out there? And as much as Minhyun rubs him the wrong way, perhaps all he’s really trying to do is help him survive.

The program seems sketchy at best. It certainly doesn’t seem legal, but for now, that’s the least of his worries. 

Guanlin wants to survive, no matter the costs.

He gets dressed quickly, heading out of the bathroom to meet back up with Jisung. The doctor smiles up at him. “Ready to go?”

Guanlin nods in response. He’s itching to get out of this godforsaken room, itching to prove his determination and eagerness to Minhyun. He’s going to prove him wrong, prove to him that he’s going to make it out there.

Minhyun’s office is a short walk from the infirmary. The entire way there, Guanlin can feel adrenaline pumping through his veins, a sharp look of resolution present in the look in his eyes. Jisung knocks once on the door before Minhyun summons them in.

He doesn’t even let Minhyun speak, doesn’t let him ask any questions. Guanlin simply locks eyes with the older male, making his intentions known.

“I’m in. I’m enrolling in the Ares Project.”


	2. TWO.

Guanlin’s sudden declaration must catch Minhyun completely by surprise (either that, or his sudden entrance hadn’t been anticipated at all), because the older looks up at him behind the frame of his glasses with wide eyes, oddly uncharacteristic for the cold man he had met yesterday. Perhaps Guanlin shouldn’t judge him so soon, but still. Minhyun hasn’t done much to change that opinion of him.

 

Eventually, he retains a calm demeanor, an amused smile growing over his foxlike features. 

 

Even Jisung seems to be a little taken aback; Guanlin can practically hear him gaping behind him before the doctor finally excuses himself. When the door closes behind him, he and Minhyun are left in some sort of staring match— Guanlin is determined not to be the one to back down. 

 

“Perfect,” Minhyun finally replies, after what feels like ages of waiting. He leans back in the rather comfortable black leather chair he’s seated on, grinning up at the younger male. “You’re just as eager as I had hoped you’d be.”

 

Guanlin’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t falter, still staring down the other with steely and cool eyes, fists balled at his sides to make him appear more intimidating, confident. 

 

Minhyun sighs then before leaning forward, folding his hands in front of him. “Very well then. Welcome to the Ares Project, Lai Guanlin.”

 

There’s no hostility in his voice, and Guanlin can’t sense any ulterior motives in the tone of his voice. Instead, it’s just straight to the point, confusing the young heir just a tiny bit. “That’s it?” he asks. “You’re not going to warn me about how dangerous this is? What kind of things might happen while I’m here?”

 

Minhyun just laughs, raising his brow. “Dangerous? Of course this is a dangerous program, Guanlin. You’re dealing with weapons, people that want to be killers. And of course, just because they’re in this program, it doesn’t mean they don’t already have some kind of experience. A few of your peers already have kills under their belt.”

 

The words come as a surprise to Guanlin. He hadn’t been expecting that kind of information at all. “So you’re telling me that I’ll be learning alongside actual killers? What kind of sick program is this?”

 

“It’s a program you chose to enroll in so you could learn to protect yourself,” Minhyun states. “I assure you, hostile classmates will be the least of your worries.” 

 

He figures Minhyun is right. As long as none of his classmates turn out to be one of the assassins assigned to kill him in the future, right? But the program  _ is  _ intended to develop his own skills. Others aren’t his concern.

 

Finally understanding the situation he’s in, Guanlin nods, once, then twice before he finally voices his understanding. “Okay… Okay, I understand now. And I stand by my word— I want to be in this program.”

 

“I know you do,” the director says, not skipping a beat. He stands then, walking around his desk and moving to stand in front of Guanlin. His earlier thoughts come to mind— Minhyun  _ is  _ a bit shorter than him, but he still oozes with authority and power, power that Guanlin isn’t sure he wants to question anytime in the near future, no matter how much the other’s presence throws him for a loop. His eyes meet Minhyun’s as he speaks, and he listens clearly to his words.

 

“Right now, it’s lunchtime. I want you to go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. At 2PM, there’s an orientation that mandatory for all students at the main training field. I expect to see you there on time,” he explains, words crisp and sharp. And finally, he reaches his hand out, another smile gracing his features as he looks straight at Guanlin once more. Guanlin takes his hand, giving him a firm shake.

 

“Welcome to the Ares Project, Guanlin.”

 

—

 

When Guanlin arrives at the cafeteria, he finds that it’s much smaller than he had expected it to be, but that it doesn’t fail in quenching his big appetite. 

 

There’s a whole line of food prepared, from salads to some grilled meats, fruits and vegetables, soups and sandwiches. It’s a lot of food, and to Guanlin, it seems like perhaps too much for the number of students in the academy. Because from who’s present at this moment, Guanlin only counts ten other students… Eleven, counting himself. Six of them sit at one of the four tables, eating together and speaking quietly amongst themselves. He wonders if they all know each other already somehow. At another table, there’s two people, and they sit across from each other, eating comfortably together. One table is left empty, and the other table has one girl sitting at it all by herself. Guanlin contemplates sitting with her once he gets his food, and that’s when he finally comes to a rather surprising discovery.

 

All eyes in the room seem to be on him.

 

Everyone stares. The room goes quiet as he looks around and tries to decide on where to sit; truthfully, that one empty table is starting to look pretty appealing. He might just sit there for now. The prying eyes might just get worse, and he can’t even imagine the chatter that might stem from it, but right now, Guanlin can’t bring himself to care that much.

 

Still, he wonders exactly what it is that’s so terribly captured his attention. He can’t remember a thing about his life before his amnesia, but it must have been pretty acclaimed, for him to have so many eyes on him like this. He looks down to avoid their stares, starts making way for the empty table before a soft noise reaches his ears.

 

“Psst—!”

 

Guanlin looks up, trying to find out where the sound had come from.

 

_ “Psst! _ ” he hears again, and he turns to his right. At the table of two, the boy that’s sitting there is obviously trying to get his attention, blatantly staring at him and cupping a hand around his mouth, as if it’ll amplify the sound of his hissing noises. Guanlin furrows his brow in confusion as the other waves him over, urging him to sit with them.

 

He’s hesitant at first; he looks at the girl sitting by herself before realizing she’s now minding her own business, and the larger group sitting together has gotten quiet too. Guanlin finally decides to sit with the other, pulling out a chair and setting his full tray on the table.

 

“Wow,” is the first thing the boy says. He look quite young, maybe around his age? Possibly even younger. He has a youthful and bright grin, dark hair and big eyes, and he doesn’t look like a typical assassin. Guanlin isn’t even sure this kid cool kill anyone even if he wanted to. “Wow,” he repeats again. “You’re real.”

 

Ah. He’s starstruck. Guanlin doesn’t know how to feel about that at all. He doesn’t feel like an extraordinary son of a wealthy businessman. Right now, he just feels like an ordinary teen suffering with amnesia, trying to get a hold of his life and the crazy new world that he’s suddenly been thrust into.

 

But the other boy doesn’t seem to care much about that. He continues to stare admiringly, making Guanlin feel just a little uncomfortable.

 

Beside him, the other person at the table smacks his arm and scolds him. “Seonho, stop that, you’re weirding him out.”

 

Another female. She seems a bit older, but still quite young, her delicate features scrunched up as she frowns at the other boy— Seonho, as she had called him. This girl has skin whiter than snow itself, he thinks, thin red lips and dark black hair, tied loosely in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her skin contrasts nicely with the black of her uniform, similar to his own. 

 

She looks at him then, sighing in frustration. “Sorry, he’s just a little shocked to see you, I guess? Not everyday a superstar joins your assassin training program, is it?”

 

“Superstar?” Guanlin questions. He certainly wouldn’t consider himself that… Had he really been that much of a celebrity before his amnesia? 

 

“All of Asia knows who you are,” the girl explains. “No offense, but I certainly didn’t expect you to be here.”

 

Guanlin doesn’t take offense at all. Still, he looks down in embarrassment, breaking apart the wooden chopsticks that come with his meal and starts stirring up the ramen he’s got on his tray. “Ah, it’s alright…”

 

The girl smiles then, raising her hand and waving a little. “I’m Shuhua. This is Seonho.”

 

Guanlin looks up at them both and smiles, waving back. He doesn’t think an introduction on his part is all that necessary, but he gives his name anyways. Seonho eagerly chats with him, asking him questions that Guanlin unfortunately doesn’t know the answers to. Shuhua tries to calm him, but really, to no avail.

 

“A car accident? That’s too bad. So you really can’t remember anything, huh?”

 

The boy shakes his head, pursing his lips and absently stirs his soup. Seonho just grins, pointing to himself. “Well I’ll make sure you’ll definitely remember me! Since we’ll be suffering through this mess all together. We can be friends, right?” 

 

Friends…? Guanlin hadn’t thought about the possibility of friends in a school meant for assassins and cold-blooded killers. He looks at Seonho incredulously, blinking at him as he tries to read his expression. But there’s nothing but pure excitement and eagerness in his face; Seonho is just truly  _ that  _ excited to befriend him. Beside him, Shuhua sighs, rolling her eyes playfully. “You’re really going to weird him out now…”

 

“No no--” Guanlin speaks up immediately, shaking his head. In fact, he’s not weirded out at all. In fact, friendship sounds… Nice. As it is, the Ares Project already seems somewhat stressful and daunting. Perhaps having friends will make things less difficult, even if it’s just a little. He smiles brightly, making sure to look at both of them as he continues. “Friendship sounds nice, actually. I’d love that.”

 

Shuhua looks at Seonho then, and he looks back at her, before a smile creeps onto Seonho’s face, and he’s practically leaping over the table in his excitement. “This is great! We’re going to be great friends, I promise! Oh, maybe we can even room together! I know you don’t know much about your own life, but I can tell you about mine! Or even Shuhua’s. Or the other students in the class. I’m sure we could find a lot to talk about.”

 

“Ah, the other students,” Guanlin quips, interrupting Seonho’s ramblings. “Can you tell me what they’re like?” He’s just curious, that’s all. And if Seonho knows anything about them, then perhaps he can figure out which ones to avoid.

 

“Like who?” Seonho replies without hesitation. “I know most of them, but only little bits and pieces. Our class has twelve people in it, including you. Over there--” Seonho points towards the girl sitting alone at the table across from them. He’s quite loud, so the girl glares in their direction, but Seonho doesn’t care, continues to point despite her obvious dislike for the attention. “That’s Yeeun. I don’t know much about her, but she seems pretty quiet. Could probably be a stealth type assassin.”

 

Yeeun frowns as Guanlin stares. He looks down immediately, trying not to make it obvious that he had been looking over at her in the first place, though Seonho practically gives it away.

 

“Over there--” he hums, motioning towards the other table. “Well, that’s basically everyone else? There’s Lim Youngmin and Kim Donghyun; there’s not a lot of information on them, but I’m pretty sure they joined the program at their own volition.”

 

Seonho motions to the end of the table to two boys, one with a kind looking face, and the other with angel-like features as he smiles. He’s not sure which is Youngmin and which is Donghyun, but he’s sure he’s bound to find out eventually.

 

“And then there’s Lee Daehwi--” Seonho continues, “That cute blond one at the center. He’s pretty outgoing, and I knew him growing up too. Actually… I’m not sure why he’s joined either… He doesn’t at all seem like the type to want to become an assassin.”

 

Guanlin looks over again; true to Seonho’s word, Daehwi is cute, but not in a way that makes Guanlin feel any kind of attraction to him; more like in a way that makes him want to protect him from harm or danger. He can understand Seonho’s confusion over why someone like him would be in the program. 

 

“What about him?” Guanlin asks, discreetly gesturing to a blond boy sitting beside Daehwi. His facial features are distinct— strong eyebrows and tanned skin, a snaggletooth that’s visible when he smiles brightly, but Guanlin has only seen it once so far. 

 

“That’s Woojin!” Seonho says excitedly. “Woojin’s cool, too. He got into the program all on his own/ Which is different, because usually most of us come from a family of assassins, you know? It’s kind of an expectation to carry on the family tradition…”  

 

Guanlin blinks at his words. A family tradition to be an assassin? Something about that doesn’t sit well with him, but he doesn’t dwell on it for long, continuing to stare at Woojin until the other can feel his gaze on him, looking up from his meal to stare back. Guanlin turns away immediately, cheeks red with embarrassment.

 

“He saw me staring. Awkward.”

 

“He won’t do anything. He doesn’t bite,” Seonho reassures him, though it’s hard to believe that anyone in this program wouldn’t stab him for even looking at them the wrong way.

 

“Do most of you already have experience then?” Guanlin asks, leaning back in his chair. “What’s the point of being in the program if you’re already competent.”

 

Shuhua speaks this time. “It’s a training program.” she says, “but not just to become an assassin. The Ares Project doesn’t just teach you how to act and then releases you and says ‘go kill people.’ It’s a very organized and strategic program, and students in the program often work under the Ares Project after their graduation, whether it’s by training students or the future or becoming assassins specifically for the program. Besides, they wouldn’t take just anyone and turn them into assassins. They take people who they know have the affinity for the occupation, who can excel in it too.”

 

Ah. He understands better now. These students aren’t just ordinary people wanting to become assassins. They’re people who have been preparing for this all their lives, have been aiming for this specific goal. The knowledge only serves to make Guanlin feel more out of place. He certainly isn’t doing this so he can join the Ares Project… No. This is about himself only— what would the other students think if they knew? He frowns a little, but doesn’t express his discontent, merely humming at Shuhua’s words. “Okay, I see now.”

 

“You interrupted me,” Seonho huffs, glaring at the girl. Shuhua merely rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at him before she continues eating, letting Seonho continue to speak. “Usually, we know who’s going to join the Ares Project before they even know it themselves… We can predict who our peers are going to be, and that’s why it’s so weird that you’re here too.”

 

“Hah…” Guanlin laughs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head.

 

“Anyways… Yerim’s over there too,” he says. “That girl with the short hair. Her sister is actually one of the combat trainers in the program. I’m sure she’s only in the class because of her.”

 

He looks over at Yerim then. Though she seems to be enjoying herself in the company of the other assassins, she still seems somewhat reserved, as if she doesn’t really wish to be here. He wonders if what Seonho says is true, and if she’s only here because she’s being forced to. If that’s the case, then who else is being forced to stay?

 

“That one with the black hair is Hyungseob— don’t tell anyone I told you, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a fat crush on Woojin.”

 

_ “Seonho!”  _ Shuhua gasps, smacking his arm. Seonho holds back a yelp, and Guanlin stares on in amusement. “That’s none of your business, honestly!”

 

“What? I’m just saying!” he frowns, rubbing his arm and pouting softly. “Anyways… Another one that’s joined because of his family. Compared to Yerim and Woojin though, he’s little… On the weaker side? I’m not sure how he’ll do in this program, but I do know he wants to do well. Maybe that will help him succeed.”

 

Guanlin nods; he’s trying to remember names, really, but they don’t stick with him right away. Maybe he’ll get better in the future. 

 

“And the last one? With the small head?”

 

Seonho blinks, staring over at him. “Oh… Jinyoungie.” He swallows then, pursing his lips and looks down, as if he doesn’t even want to risk the chance of Jinyoung hearing them speak about him, or look in his direction. “He’s… Kinda scary. Talented, I guess. But he’s quiet and can be terrifying when he’s in a mood. I’m surprised he’s hanging out with everyone today.”

 

Deciding to be a little brave, he glances over at Jinyoung. Only his profile is visible, but he can see that Jinyoung is quite handsome. His small head adds to his charm, along with his soft and boyish facial features. Though he does seem quite cold, and Guanlin definitely doesn’t want to risk the chance of being caught staring either.

 

“There’s one more,” Guanlin quips.

 

Seonho tilts his head. “Huh?”

 

“Someone’s missing. There’s only eleven of us in the cafeteria.”

 

Seonho looks around then, even counts to make sure that Guanlin’s telling the truth before he finally slumps in his seat, looking perplexed and defeated. “Huh… Someone’s missing… I could’ve sworn there were twelve of us… Wasn’t there someone else when we entered this morning?” He looks over at Shuhua to confirm his thoughts.

 

“Park Jihoon.” 

 

And then Seonho freezes. “Oh?”

 

Curious, Guanlin leans in. “Park Jihoon? Who’s that?”

 

Seonho swallows hard, awkwardly pretending to mix his salad, though it’s quite obvious he doesn’t intend on taking a single bite. “I’m pretty sure he’s got like at least a good… forty kills under his belt? He’s scary. People know  _ of  _ him here? But not really  _ about  _ him… I’m sure the director knows a lot about him, but I don’t think he’d be willing to give that kind of information away…”

 

Guanlin raises a brow, definitely intrigued by Seonho’s words. This Jihoon person seems rather interesting—  _ all  _ of his classmates sound quite interesting, to be truthful, and there’s a slight worry that Guanlin won’t measure up in comparison. He’s got no experience in killing… Hell, he hardly knows how to work a gun, barely knows how to chop his own vegetables with a knife. He can already imagine a scenario where he accidentally shoots his own foot off, or maybe even one of his peers’ (the latter definitely seems worse— at least if he shoots himself, there’s a chance of survival; shooting a classmate means potentially angering them, resulting in him having a trained assassin practically aiming to bring him down).

 

But Guanlin’s not going to give up like this. Not when he hasn’t even tried, when he hasn’t even given himself a chance.

 

He sighs heavily, hoping it’ll help the nervous feeling in his chest dissipate. Then he looks up and Seonho and Shuhua again, eyes shifting between the two. “What about you guys? What’s your story?”

 

Shuhua smiles softly, straightening up as she speaks. Her mannerisms are  such a stark contrast to Seonho’s— she’s very princess-like and gently, whereas Seonho is very jittery and excitable. “We’re siblings. Step siblings, actually. Orphaned when we were young, and the Ares Project took us in. So we’re here now, because we would’ve ended up here anyways. But it’s not like we have complaints.”

 

Guanlin eyes them both curiously. “So you both  _ want  _ to be in the program?”

 

She nods in response. “Of course. It’s dangerous but… I think it’s nice to be able to protect yourself without needing the help of others. Besides, it’s a career path, too. A secure one, at that.”

 

Guanlin frowns. “So then you’re okay with killing innocent people? Just because it’s a job for you?”

 

And almost simultaneously, the siblings blink at him.They freeze and stare at each other before a laugh escapes from both of them, Seonho’s drowning out the sound of Shuhua’s. “You think the Ares Project kills innocent people?” Seonho cackles. Guanlin furrows his brow. Is he missing something?

 

Just then, Shuhua reaches out, placing a hand over his fist. “Guanlin, we only kill people that do bad things. Over and over again. We don’t kill just because someone tells us to. There has to be a reason, and a good reason at that.”

 

It’s as if a lightbulb is switched on in his head; Guanlin understands a little better now. Why the Ares Project seems so organized when the world of assassins he’s imagined has always seemed so… messy (he still wants to believe that the movies still have it  _ somewhat  _ accurate). But if that’s the case, then who is to decide what is good and what is bad? Does it mean that those that come after his own life are bad, and deserved to be killed? So much feels wrong, but Guanlin isn’t entirely certain how to feel.

 

“O-oh..” he mumbles in response. Shuhua giggles before stacking the bowls on her tray, seemingly done with her meal.

 

“I know it sounds confusing, but you’re here already. Give it a shot. I’m sure you’ll get it one day,” she reassures him, though he’s not entirely certain he believes her. Is he just supposed to ignore the pressing questions on his mind for the sole sake of learning to be an assassin? There’s something not right about this, but Guanlin isn’t sure how to voice that frustration.

 

Before he can think further about it, he realizes that Seonho and Shuhua are both leaving now, trays in hand as they walk to the nearest garbage cans, emptying the contents into it before setting the trays and plates in a cleaning bin. They look over at Guanlin, and Seonho speaks then. “It’s almost 2PM; orientation is starting soon. Want to come with us?”

 

Guanlin purses his lips, looking down at his barely eaten ramen. Still, he tosses it in the trash, tagging along with Seonho and Shuhua, ultimately the rest of the students as they head to the training grounds for their first orientations. 

 

—

 

Guanlin had forgotten to ask why Seonho and Shuhua had sat and ate by themselves and not with the rest of the students during lunch.

 

The question is even more baffling as the two groups begin to mingle with each other; Shuhua converses with Yerim and Daehwi, and Seonho with Youngmin and Woojin. Everyone seems close, and again, Guanlin feels like an outsider looking in. 

 

The training field is rather vast; it’s a room deep within the Ares Project headquarters that looks like it spans one whole football field. It’s made of concrete walls, various weapons hanging off of them— guns, arrows, knives, grenades… The list goes on and on. A few sparring mats sit in one of the corners of the room, as well as a several targets mounted on a stand. Guanlin feels as if this place is straight out of a spy movie— at least one thing that the movies seem to have gotten right.

 

The students all stand silently in one corner, waiting for 2PM to approach. Guanlin looks at his watch; it’s 1:54, and currently, there are still only eleven students in the hall.

 

The student called Park Jihoon is still missing.

 

Ever since Seonho had mentioned Jihoon, Guanlin had been rather curious. He’s the only student that Guanlin hasn’t laid eyes on, and one of the few that he has very minute information on. Naturally, he can’t help but to at least wonder about his existence, why he hasn’t shown himself just yet.

 

“Where the hell is Jihoon?” somebody finally asks. Guanlin thinks it’s Woojin, but he’s not entirely sure.

 

And then, as if on cue, the doors open again, and in walks someone who appears to be another student. He looks average in height, and certainly not old enough to be a trainer or in some position of power. He looks just like the rest of them, but at the same time, he does not.

 

When Park Jihoon enters the room, it’s as if he demands attention from everyone, as if he  _ owns  _ everyone’s attention without even trying to. He walks in so coolly, that Guanlin almost forgets why he’s here. Jihoon’s eyes are cool and disinterested, bright and wide, and just barely curving at the end to create this unfairly perfect shape. His skin perfectly tanned and thick black hair sits upon his head, matching his black attire that clings perfectly to his figure. 

 

Guanlin’s first thought is that Jihoon’s existence seems so contradictory; upon first glance, the other male seems absolutely innocent and harmless, with his round cheeks and soft eyes. But there’s a coldness in his glare and a confidence in the way that he walks that assures Guanlin that Jihoon is not just another pretty face. Jihoon, like the rest of them, is a killer, and perhaps the most dangerous of all, as Seonho had suggested. A chill runs up Guanlin’s spine as he watches the other move, studying his body language, the way that he carries himself and the way he interacts with others.

 

Guanlin has no right to stare so hard, but Jihoon has no right capture his attention like this either.

 

“About time,” the blond one— Woojin again, Guanlin is pretty sure — teases as Jihoon joins his side. Jihoon just rolls his eyes then, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Told you I wasn’t hungry,” Jihoon retaliates. 

 

“Bullshit. You’re always hungry.”

 

The playful banter between the two serves to remind Guanlin that these people are human too, that he shouldn’t judge them so harshly based on their occupation choice as an  _ assassin,  _ of all things. Still, it feels strange. Things do not fit the expectations he had, and he’s not quite sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

 

He stares at Jihoon a little longer, and it isn’t long before Jihoon is finally staring back.

 

Maybe he’s imagining things, but the second his eyes meet Jihoon’s, there’s something there; his cool exterior is broken away for a second, and Guanlin sees something that hadn’t been there before. A wave of recognition, perhaps, but that’s probably nothing special, half the students here have probably recognized him already. Still, Guanlin watches as Jihoon’s pupils dilate and his eyes widen— Guanlin feels his heart skip a beat.

 

The occurrence only lasts a moment, less than a split second before Jihoon is looking at him just as he looks at everyone else, a bored, disinterested look weighing heavy on his soft features. It doesn’t suit him at all, Guanlin thinks.

 

He should introduce himself, he thinks. But that would be a little weird, considering he hasn’t really introduced himself to any of the other students, other than Seonho and Shuhua. Nonetheless, he feels as if he should say something, as Jihoon just keeps staring and staring, to the point where Guanlin feels a little uncomfortable under his gaze. He’s about to speak up and say something when the door slams open once more, and all chatter and idle chat in the room seems to silence.

 

It’s so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. 

 

Guanlin stops staring at Jihoon then, and he’s pretty sure Jihoon isn’t looking at him anymore either. Instead, they both watch as another familiar face makes his entrance, head held high and glasses resting atop the bridge of his nose, hands folded neatly behind his back. With his black slacks, leather shoes and a white button up top that’s tucked neatly into his pants, director Hwang Minhyun is the splitting image of perfection.

 

He looks like he’s meant to lead, and judged by the reactions of the other students in the room, they all seem to agree. 

 

When Minhyun enters, Guanlin expects arrogance, pompousness in the way that he walks and talks. Minhyun hardly spares any of them a glance before he’s standing directly in front of them, scanning each and every one of their faces, as if he were a lion, deciding on which poor lamb to make his prey. He’s got a manila envelope in his hands, and Guanlin is slightly curious as to what it could hold inside.

 

But then he smiles. And he greets them warmly. “Welcome to orientation, students. Glad to see you’re all here on time.”

 

Some of them smile back, and some of them sway awkwardly. Certainly the atmosphere isn’t the most comfortable, yet Minhyun manages to set that aside as he continues to speak, standing proudly before all of them.

 

“I know all of you are just  _ dying  _ to learn how to become better assassins, but before the year begins, it’s important that you’re all briefed on what to expect. What will be tolerated and what will not be tolerated here at the Ares Project,” he says. He definitely has everyone’s attention now. Even Seonho, who had been fidgeting beside him prior to his entrance is standing still, eyes trained on the head of the program.

 

“First of all, congratulations,” Minhyun hums. “You’ve passed the selection process amongst hundreds of applicants, and have all been chosen to participate in this year’s program. However, just because you’ve passed this round, does not mean that this program will be easy for you.

 

“The Ares Project is designed to not only strengthen the skills you have as assassins, but to develop new ones, make sure they stick around long after you’re no longer running around blowing off the heads of your assigned targets.”

 

“Blowing off heads?” someone whispers in the crowd.

 

“Not everyone prefers slitting throats open like you, Jinyoung,” Minhyun fires without missing a beat. There’s a moment allowed for laughter, but as quickly at it comes, it’s suddenly silent again, as Minhyun continues to pace before them, continuing on with his speech.

 

“As I was saying, you’re going to train hard,” he announces. “You’re going to attempt tasks that you might find impossible, but you’ll make them possible, because if you don’t, then we’re going to have a problem. You’re going to hate me, and you might even hate your trainers. But understand that none of us care if you hate us; we aren’t here to make you love us. We’re here to make sure you aren’t going to give up in the face of adversity.”

 

Everyone latches on to the every word that Minhyun says. Even Guanlin can’t look away, engrossed in his speech, the words that fall from his lips, especially as he stares directly at him with the last of his phrase. Guanlin narrows his eyes. Is Minhyun challenging him? He doesn’t really think he’s going to give in so easily, does he? 

 

“You’ll learn a lot,” Minhyun continues. “You’ll learn what it’s like to fail… To succeed. But you’ll definitely come out of this stronger. I can guarantee that. You want to become a better assassin? You want to  _ learn  _ how to protect yourself and the people you care about?”

 

He looks at Guanlin again. Guanlin balls his fists at his sides.

 

“Then you better fight.”

 

He tightens his fists so hard that his nails dig into his palms, and he wonders if they’ll start bleeding anytime soon. 

 

Minhyun looks away then. He stops pacing, instead standing in place directly in front of the students. Their attention is still directed at him as he speaks. “Does anyone have any questions before we begin? Anything else I should know about?” Everyone looks around, but it’s silent, and there’s no response. The director smiles in satisfaction..

 

“Good. Then tomorrow, training will officially begin,” he explains. “Tonight, you will all sleep in the same room in the east wing. Your belongings are already there. Tomorrow, you’ll rise at 6AM sharp, arrive no later than 6:20 for breakfast. If you are late, you do not eat. At 7AM, I expect to see you here on the training field. You’ll meet your trainers, and you will be separated into different houses based on the abilities you’ve shown in your pretests. You will also move into new dorms based on your housing.” He pauses then, before smiling in amusement. “Any questions? Am I clear?”

 

Everyone chants in unison a clear: “Yessir!” Guanlin misses out, but he’s not really crying over it anyways. 

 

“Good. Here’s a reminder for you, in case you should forget— which I sincerely hope none of you do.” Minhyun draws the envelope from behind his back then. From the envelope, he produces an handful of letters, each with a student’s name scrawled neatly in cursive on the back. He calls out each name, and the student comes and takes their envelope. When his name is called, Guanlin looks up at Minhyun suspiciously, taking his envelope carefully from his hands.

 

“I’m expecting a lot of things from you, Guanlin-ah.”

 

Guanlin doesn’t reply however, simply walks away as he tears open his letter, reading the contents inside.

 

Sure enough, it’s simply a schedule of how tomorrow’s events are meant to unfold, from their rising to their training regimen, lunch to dinner, shower times and bed times. It’s rather anti-climatic; he had been hoping for some kind of secret message of sorts, but it’s whatever he thinks, tucking the paper away into the pocket of his jeans. He rejoins Seonho and Shuhua again who are doing the same, folding their letters away.

 

It’s silent once more as Minhyun delivers his final message, nodding at all of them with a soft grin. “I’m looking forward to an exciting year with all of you. Work hard, alright?”

 

Another “yessir!” is given in response; Guanlin unsurprisingly misses out on this one as well. With that, Minhyun makes his exit, and it’s practically silent until the moment he steps out the door, it’s heavy weight creating a loud slamming sound as it shuts.

 

Chatter picks up immediately after that. 

 

“Ah,” Seonho says, feigning a shiver. “He’s so scary… But so cool.”

 

Shuhua nudges her brother playfully and lets out a soft laugh as she looks up at Guanlin again. “We’ve got a lot of time to explore the headquarters before it’s dinner time. We should probably familiarize ourselves with it anyways, since we’re gonna be here for a while right? Wanna tag along?”

 

At her invitation, Guanlin smiles. He’s grateful to Shuhua and Seonho for their invitation; it makes him feel much less like an outsider, and like perhaps he really does belong here, despite obvious gaps in skill between him and the other students. It certainly doesn’t take any skills to tour the headquarters though. Besides, Guanlin could use a nice long walk. So he decides to go with them, joining in the small cheering circle that Seonho forces them into, much to Shuhua’s discontent. 

 

Before they leave, Guanlin takes one last look around. The ones that Seonho had pointed out as Youngmin and Donghyun seem to have left already. Yerim and Yeeun have gone too, as well the one with the small head— was it Jinyoung? He can’t quite recall.

 

Only four others remain; Hyungseob and Daehwi seem to be having some kind of conversation, bright and cheerful looks on both of their faces. And then there’s Woojin and Jihoon— the two of them seem to be having a conversation of their own as well, and it doesn’t look nearly as exciting as the one that the other pair of boys are having. Guanlin can’t help but watch them for a moment, analyzing their expressions, trying to read their lips (though he’s never quite mastered that). 

 

It’s only when Seonho starts to drag him out of the room that Guanlin looks away, allowing the siblings to have all of his attention once more.

 

The day passes fairly quickly; Guanlin, Seonho, and Shuhua manage to tour as much of the headquarters as they can before dinner time rolls around. Unsurprisingly, much of headquarters is off limits. Probably lots of secret information and other technology lies around that they’re not meant to access (but of course, it only serves to make them even more curious). But at least Guanlin learns where some of the more important rooms are, like where their dorms are, and where the shower is, where he can go to find Jisung in the infirmary, and Minhyun’s office too. There’s even a counseling office; Guanlin considers visiting, just so he can get his mind off of things every once in a while. It certainly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, he thinks. 

 

Dinner is fantastic, too. If there’s one major perk to this place, it’s that the food is fantastic. Meal times would certainly be his favorite part of the day, and he’s sure Seonho would have to agree. At dinner, he watches as the younger eats five whole trays of food in one sitting; he doesn’t even have a stomach ache afterwards, and the how absolutely baffles Guanlin. Shuhua, however, seems used to it, barely batting a pretty eyelash as he brother scarfs down almost five times her meal.

 

He somehow ends up the last to shower, which isn’t a big deal, really. It just means he doesn’t have to rush out, even if most of the hot water is gone by his turn. The dorms are split; nine beds are spread out on one side of the room for the boys, and three on the other side for the girls. When Guanlin arrives back to the room, he finds that his assigned bed is sandwiched right in between Seonho’s and Park Jihoon’s.

 

Perfect. 

 

Jihoon is actually already all tucked into bed by the time he gets back. He’s buried underneath his blankets and facing away from Guanlin’s bed,  _ thank goodness.  _ Seonho tries to start up another conversation with Guanlin before lights out, but as soon as darkness settles over the room, Guanlin wishes him a good night, finally lying down in bed as well, closing his eyes so he can finally sleep. 

 

It strange, he thinks. How yesterday, he had been almost completely unsure of what the future might hold for him. Yesterday, he had been nothing more than an orphaned boy with amnesia, no family, and no place to call home. 

 

And now he’s here, training to become an assassin,  _ a killer.  _

 

He won’t admit out loud, but Minhyun’s words had lit a fire in him. He wants to become a fighter, wants to be able to protect himself and the people that he cares about, no matter how small that number may be. 

 

Guanlin won’t let himself become just another sob story; he won’t let himself be known as the wealthy son of a businessman who had tragically lost his memories, had attempted to take over the family business, only to be taken out by someone who’s put a big red X on his back.

 

Giving up isn’t an option. Guanlin is determined to prove that to them all.

 

—

 

It’s night, and it’s quiet when Woojin opens his eyes, met with almost absolute darkness. He can only make out silhouettes and shadows, and a very obvious one stands so very close to him, standing at the edge of his bed as he sits up.

 

“Jihoon?” he whispers.

 

“Let’s go,” Jihoon whispers back without hesitation, grabbing Woojin’s hand and tugging him out of bed. “Everyone is leaving now.”

 

He looks around, and sure enough, he can make out figures that are scrambling around quietly in the dark, putting on shoes and sweaters over their pajamas. How no one runs into each other, he’s not quite sure, but he doesn’t question it, allowing Jihoon to pull him out of bed. 

 

He glances over at Jihoon’s bed, and he can tell that it’s been left unmade. One bed over, he hears snoring.  _ Guanlin. _

 

They aren’t supposed to wake him. The instructions in the letters Minhyun had given them had been clear.

 

_ At exactly 2:15AM, come to the training field. Do not wake Lai Guanlin in the process.  _

 

The instructions had been suspicious, but no one had questioned it. No one had been willing to suffer the consequences had they failed to do what they had been told. It could lead to removal from the class, expulsion from the program altogether, and no one wanted that.

 

Swiftly, Woojin puts his shoes on. He lets Jihoon lead him out of the room along with the other students, door cracked open only slightly to ensure that light from the hallways doesn’t filter into the room. As they leave, he takes one last peek at Guanlin, who sleeps soundly and undisturbed in his bed. Youngmin closes the door behind them. Woojin swallows hard.

 

He has a bad feeling about this. 

 

The walk to the training field isn’t too long, but it’s still enough to get Woojin’s thoughts going. What is this about? Why had Lai Guanlin been left out? 

 

He looks over at Jihoon— his best friend looks just as perplexed as him. For most people, it’s hard to see past Jihoon’s exterior appearance. But Woojin knows him too well. He knows that he’s thinking too hard right now, and by the way he stares straight forward as he walks, he knows that he’s trying his hardest to mask the fact. But Woojin knows.

 

When they arrive, Minhyun is already there. He’s not alone, however. Woojin recognizes some of the men that are with him, but there are a few that he doesn’t know at all. All of them stare as the students enter, and Woojin glances suspiciously over at them as they walk over together, keeping close in their hesitation.

 

As always, Minhyun looks calm. He’s seen him before; everyone involved in the Ares Project knows who Hwang Minhyun is. He’s the mastermind behind this entire program, the one that’s brought them all together. It feels unreal to actually stand before him.

 

“I’m sorry to wake you at such an unfortunate hour,” Minhyun says, voice ringing through the spacious hall. “But what I’ve brought you here for is of utmost importance, and I’m trusting you all to keep quiet about this. Guanlin cannot know about this.”

 

With that, a few confused mumbles are exchanged between the students. Woojin glances at Jihoon for a moment before finally turning back to Minhyun, who continues, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

 

“As you all know, Lai Guanlin’s family is wealthy, owns a very powerful business that has connections in all of Asia,” he begins. “Guanlin has amnesia, but he’s still set to take over the family business once he completes this program.

 

“I don’t want to see that happen.”

 

Woojin’s eyes widen, and he stiffens with Minhyun’s words.

 

“So, I’m proposing something very… Unique to all of you,” he continues. His voice is sinister somehow, and Woojin feels uneasy as he listens to him speak. He bites his lips, holding his breath.

 

“Whoever kills Lai Guanlin, the Ares Project will grant you any wish you desire.  _ Anything. _ ”

 

There’s a gasp. Several actually, though Woojin can’t pinpoint who they actually belong to. But beside him, he feels Jihoon tense. 

 

Kill Lai Guanlin? There must be something really crazy going on in that mind of Hwang Minhyun’s, Woojin thinks. What purpose does he have for killing him? Does he plan on taking over the company himself? And by using the Ares Project to do it? 

 

No… That can’t be right. As mysterious as Minhyun has always been, Woojin doesn’t think he’d do something as shady as that. So what’s with this plot? None of it makes sense.

 

“You can make your attempt whenever you like, and we’ll watch through the surveillance cameras throughout headquarters,” he explains. “That way, we’ll know who’s failed, and who actually succeeds.

 

“However, there is a consequence if you fail,” he warns. And just when Woojin thinks it can’t get any worse, the tension in the room grows. His eyes shift from Minhyun to the other adults in the room, each of them eerily quiet. It only serves to make him even more worried for what’s to come. Everyone holds their breath, Woojin included. 

 

“If you make an assassination attempt and you fail, you will be expelled from the Ares Project, and will not be able to rejoin.”

 

And there it is. The bomb that no one had been expecting. Anxious murmurs circulate throughout the room. Woojin looks around, and of course, there are various reactions. Seonho and Shuhua, who had befriended Guanlin earlier seem worried, stressed over the newly discovered information. Some of them seem confused, while some of them just keep quiet. They’re the most suspicious, Woojin thinks, the most likely to go through with something as crazy as this. He swallows hard, pursing his lips as he processes the information he’s just been told. 

 

Attempt to kill Lai Guanlin and succeed, or be expelled from the program.

 

Woojin is sure that at least  _ one  _ of them is going to try.

 

Still, the risk is so high. Chancing their enrollment in the Ares Project for an assassination? Other than Jihoon and Jinyoung, Woojin doesn’t think that the other students have even made their first kills yet. And while Lai Guanlin likely will be vulnerable, there’s still so much room for error that Woojin doesn’t even think it would be worth it.

 

He looks over at Jihoon finally, who looks uncertain as he stands unmoving beside him. He stares at Minhyun, eyes blank, as if he’s staring at a wall, and not a man who’s just bribed him to kill his peer. 

 

But Woojin knows Jihoon too well. He knows that behind his blank stare, there’s something else behind his best friend’s eyes, something he can’t quite read, but he knows is there. 

 

Woojin frowns, staring long and hard at Director Hwang too, trying to read past the all-too relaxed smile on his face.

 

_ Hwang Minhyun, what are you planning? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I told you I'm so excited for this fic I literally got home from work and wrote 6k just so i could update heh. Next chapter will be up soon! 
> 
> twitter: http://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> curiouscat: http://curiouscat.me/wannabyui


	3. THREE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ADDED THE WRONG ENDING TO THE FIRST UPLOAD OF THIS CHAPTER SIGSOGSG SO IF U READ THAT PLEASE IGNORE IT ORZ THIS ONE IS CORRECT NOW.

Guanlin almost doesn’t wake up in time for breakfast.

 

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep he had gotten the day before, or maybe he’s just always been a heavy sleeper, but he practically falls asleep the moment he hits the bed that night, and sleeps through the alarm that resonates through their sleeping quarters. He’ll need to kick that habit, it certainly won’t benefit his future here.

 

The only reason he wakes that morning is because he feels someone shaking his thin frame until he’s stirring from his sleep, humming groggily and opening his eyes. Must be Seonho, he thinks, or Shuhua too, possibly. Maybe it’s Minhyun, here to tell him that he’s missed breakfast and is late to training now too. He doesn’t want that. Worried, he opens his eyes wide, and surprisingly, none of the above have actually come to wake him. 

 

Instead, he’s met with a round face and black eyes, staring down at him as Guanlin scans his face in confusion. He blinks as he realizes who it is.

 

“J-Jihoon?”

 

Jihoon hardly bats an eyelash at him, expression unreadable as he moves from Guanlin’s side. “You overslept. You’re going to miss breakfast.”

 

His voice is emotionless too, dull and bland as he starts walking away without another word. Guanlin sits up then in his bed, scanning the room around him. Surprisingly, everyone else has already left. Jihoon looks as if he’s getting ready to leave too, headed straight for the exit without ever speaking another word to him.

 

“W-wait!” Guanlin calls after the other. Jihoon halts his steps, but he doesn’t look back. “T-thank you for waking me up…”

 

Guanlin waits then. For a response, a smile, anything. But he gets nothing in return; Jihoon simply continues to walk away, and the younger just watches in shock as the door slams behind him, leaving him completely alone in the sleeping quarters.

 

He sits there for a moment, staring at the door in shock. What had just happened? And what’s with Jihoon waking him up just to give him the cold shoulder five seconds later? Guanlin doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because as he checks the alarm clock beside him, it reads 6:13, meaning he’s only got seven minutes to head down for breakfast before the cafeteria is closed to him, and he doesn’t eat at all.

 

_ Shit,  _ he thinks to himself, pushing himself out of bed, not bothering to fix his bed.  _ Shit shit shit…  _ He slips on a clean pair of trousers and a new shirt, his training boots too before he finally heads out, racing to reach the cafeteria on time.

 

_ — _

 

Guanlin smacks Seonho upside the head the second he sits beside him in the cafeteria, uncaring about the loud whine that the younger gives in return. “Hey!” Seonho cries out, rubbing the spot he had smacked and making a sour face at the other. “What the hell was that for?”

 

“Thanks for waking me up,” he states simply. “I was almost late to breakfast.”

 

Seonho turns away guiltily then, poking at the good on his tray. “I’m sorry! I wanted to get down as soon as possible before all the good food was gone. Woojin and Jihoon always eat it all.”

 

Guanlin just frowns at his words, turning over to the table across from them. Sure enough, Woojin has a lot of food piled up on his plate, and Jihoon does too. But Jihoon certainly hadn’t beat Seonho down. Not when he had been the one to wake him. 

 

Still, Jihoon looks content with what he has, conversing with the other assassins around him as he eats, stuffing his mouth with food at the same time.

 

Guanlin doesn’t even notice he’s staring until Jihoon catches him, and he quickly looks away.

 

“Shuhua wanted to come down early too so she could befriend Yeeun,” Seonho adds as he gestures over to the other table. Guanlin peeks over, and sure enough, Shuhua’s sitting over there with Yeeun, smiling brightly as she talks to her over her breakfast. Yeeun looks a lot less cold, and actually looks up at Shuhua as she speaks.

 

“At least you made it down here at all. Would’ve been hell going through the first day of training without eating anything,” the younger boy says, mouth full of rice that he’s just eaten. 

 

Though he’s right, Guanlin just glare at him, only looking away when Seonho holds his hands up in surrender. Oh well, he thinks. No use in dwelling on it now. 

 

More than anything, he’s curious as to what training will be like. Minhyun had mentioned houses based on previous testing results… Test that Guanlin is pretty sure he hasn’t undergone. What would happen to him as a result? And training wasn’t going to be restrained to that tiny training room, was it? As spacious as it is, Guanlin doesn’t think it’s enough to train twelve assassins. 

 

“Do you know what to expect?” he finally asks Seonho, picking at his eggs. “Training, I mean…”

 

At his question, Seonho looks up. He looks rather silly, mouth stuffed full with food, but he manages to swallow it down quickly before shaking his head. “Nope. No clue. Jihoon might now. He’s had a sibling in the program before, but for the most part, all of this is new for us all.”

 

“Ah,” Guanlin hums. “I see… What about houses? Minhyun had mentioned it yesterday…”

 

“Oh!” the other perks up suddenly. “Those are based on your specialty. You’ll get basic training, of course, but they like to make sure you’re also getting attention for whatever you excel at too. For example, I’m a sniper. So I’ll most likely be put into a house that specializes in firearms. Shuhua too, actually, but she’s better at close range attacks.”

 

Guanlin narrows his eyes then. “You said you don’t know what to expect at all…”

 

“Yeah, but everyone knows that,” Seonho shrugs.

 

“I didn’t know that.”

 

“You’re a billionaire , you don’t count.”

 

The older opens his mouth to say something else, but closes it as he finds himself at a loss for words.

 

“No more questions,” the other responds, waving his hands in front of him. “You’ll find out everything you need to know later today. Besides, I need to finish my breakfast before I run out of time, so stop talking to me.”

 

Guanlin playfully throws a used napkin at the other, and Seonho laughs loudly, uncaring of who stares back at them.

 

—

 

There certainly isn’t enough time to get from breakfast to the training field, Guanlin thinks. His food has hardly digested by the time he and Seonho are already rushing from the cafeteria to the training field all the way across headquarters, the other students already way ahead of them. He’s not sure how they’ve managed to eat so quickly, nor how they can stand the ache in their stomachs from their meal not too long ago. Guanlin’s already cramping up from the trip, and Seonho looks like he could pass out at any minute.

 

Everyone else however, looks perfectly fine. In fact, they all stare at the two of them as they lean tiredly against one of the training room’s walls, trying to catch their breaths. Even Shuhua doesn’t look affected as she stands straight and tall, talking to Yeeun again in the corner of them room.

 

His classmates are all androids, Guanlin decides then. Assassin androids who probably can’t feel any pain either.

 

Seonho is definitely human, however,  _ especially  _ human from the way he doubles over in pain, whining about how he shouldn’t have eaten so much. Guanlin thinks he just needs water, and he should be fine.

 

He checks the watch on his wrist. It’s almost 8AM, and their trainers should be arriving shortly.

 

“You guys should stand soon,” someone warns. Guanlin looks up then, and he sees two of his classmates looking down at them expectantly. He’s pretty sure their names are Youngmin and Donghyun, but he’s not completely sure. The taller of the two speaks, though it’s more of a tone of concern than one of mockery of disdain. “It won’t leave a good impression on your trainers of you’re seen like this.”

 

Guanlin purses his lips before nodding. His side still cramps up a little, but he stands anyways, helping Seonho up too, bringing him to stand in line with the rest of the students, just as the doors of the training room begin to open.

 

It’s still a little nerve wracking, Guanlin thinks. He still doesn’t know what to expect from all of this. His movie knowledge tells him to expect complete assholes for trainers, ones that make them run laps until someone’s puking, or ones that expect 100 pushups in ten seconds or less. Guanlin can barely do two. 

 

Or perhaps they’ll be nicer than that, but he highly doubts it. Not when the students they’re training are training to become assassins. For Guanlin, the probability of a kind trainer seems very unlikely.

 

So when the trainers do enter, Guanlin is far from surprised. Dressed in all black with the most stoic of looks upon all of their faces, three people enter the room. There’s two men and one woman, and the woman seems to be the fiercest-looking one of them all. She’s tiny, Guanlin thinks, but her gaze is cold, dark brown hair tied up into a ponytail, and her strong gaze scouring over all of her students.

 

The first of the male combat trainers has somewhat of a kinder appearance, though his relaxed expression still shows no emotion. His jet black hair is pushed neatly out of his face, strong jawline accentuating his sharp features. He’s got thin lips and soft eyes, and as he gets closer, Guanlin notices a pattern of constellations on his cheek. 

 

And the last of the trainers… Guanlin thinks he looks rather intimidating too. He’s broad, shoulders stretching wide, even underneath his thick black top. He’s tall too, maybe somewhere around Guanlin’s height. With his intense gaze meeting his own, Guanlin feels his body tense a little, hands clasping nervously behind his back. He should have expected this. But still, he’s not sure what his response should be in a situation like this.

 

The traineers stand before the students in a line, and it’s almost like a faceoff… A twelve vs. three faceoff that Guanlin is certain they still would lose. He doesn’t think any of these trainers are people he wants to mess with, now, or anywhere in the near future. 

 

FInally, after what seems like an eternity of the trainers studying them, observing them from a comfortable distance, one of them— the one with the stars on his cheeks— smiles softly. “Looks like we’ve got quite the class on our hands this year, hm?” Beside him, the other male nods in agreement; the woman just stares on, and Guanlin wonders how uncomfortable she’s made most of them already.

 

“Welcome, then,” the man says. “We’ll get on with introductions first, they start the basics of your training, sound good? Perfect— to begin, I’m Ong Seongwoo, and I specialize in stealth and hand to hand combat training here at the Ares Project.”

 

Guanlin hums, committing the name to memory.  _ Seongwoo. _

 

“He’s pretty well-versed in everything, though,” adds the other man beside him, playfully slinging an arm around the trainer —  _ Seongwoo,  _ Guanlin reminds himself.  _ Don’t forget. _

 

Still, the next one seems rather friendly. The smile on his face as he brings his arm around Seongwoo reaches his eyes, and his eyes fill with warmth as he looks at Seongwoo. Seongwoo just rolls his eyes before he playfully pushes him away. “Bragging about people other than yourself? That’s pretty unlike you, Daniel.”

 

The taller of the two just snorts, shaking his head before collecting himself again. As if he suddenly remembers where he is, he clears his throat before addressing the students once more. “Like Seongwoo said, welcome. I’m Daniel, and I’ll be your firearms specialist. If you’re a sniper, a shooter, or like handling guns of any kind, then I’ll be your guy.”

 

Beside him, Seonho nudges Guanlin. He looks over, and the younger points to himself, raising his brows suggestively. Guanlin holds back a laugh, smiling as he looks forward once more.

 

“Is there something that’s funny, kid?”

 

Before he can even focus his attention on Daniel again, it seems Daniel’s attention is on him first, because when he looks back at the trainer, he’s looking at him questioningly, his frightening gazing barring down on Guanlin. The teen blinks in surprise before swallowing hard. Not even his first day, and he’s already managed to make a bad impression.

 

“Um, no, nothing, I just…”

 

“Just what?” Daniel cuts off, still staring at him with a piercing gaze. Guanlin is determined not to break eye contact with the other, but the weight of his stare is just too much for the boy to handle, and he ends up glancing down at his shoes, feeling his cheeks heat red with embarrassment.

 

“Daniel, knock it off. You’re here to train the kids, not scare them.” 

 

Guanlin looks up again, and this time, all eyes are on the female trainer on the opposite side of Seongwoo. She looks rather annoyed, in Guanlin’s opinion, raised brow expressing some form of discontent— for Daniel’s words, probably.

 

Daniel laughs then, shaking his head. “It’s no fun if we don’t scare them just a little. Otherwise they’re going to think we’re pushovers.”

 

“The two of you might be pushovers, but I certainly am not,” she sighs before finally straightening up. At her full height, she barely reaches Seongwoo’s chest. Still, she manifests an energy far more strict and terrifying that he or Daniel could ever muster. Perhaps it’s the way she speaks so poised and dignified, the way she holds her head up high that makes her seem so much bigger than the two of them, despite her petite frame. Every student holds their breaths as she speaks.

 

“I’m Bae Joohyun,” she finally says. “My specialty is working with close range weapons, mainly knives. If that’s your preferred method of attack, then you and I will be seeing a lot of each other. I’m also in charge of these two idiots, so do not, for one second, think otherwise.”

 

Everyone nods at Joohyun’s words. He’s certain that disobeying her is something that none of the dream of doing.

 

“As your trainers—” Joohyun continues,”We expect you to work hard. To show improvement everyday, and to always be willing to take criticism. We also expect that you ask questions when you need help, but that you also make attempts to solve issues using your own head first before coming to us. You won’t have trainers to lean on in the real world.”

 

Like everyone else, Guanlin hangs on to every word that Joohyun speaks. She reminds him of Minhyun, in a way, but perhaps less condescending, as if this is something she has to do, not because she wants to do it. Still, she carries on strong, continuing to capture the attention of every soul in the room.

 

“We will meet here every single day at seven AM,” she explains. “From seven to approximately eleven AM, you will train as a single class using various techniques. Aside from combat, we must also be sure that you’re all in perfect shape. Weak stamina will do nothing but handicap you as an assassin.

 

“From eleven to one, you have a two-hour lunch break. I advise that you use it wisely and take some time to digest before coming back to training for the day. We don’t want students throwing up while we’re giving lessons, it really is a hassle—” She eyes Seonho then, and everyone else in the room does the same. Guanlin looks down again, hoping that it’s not obvious that he had been in the same boat. “Individual training based on houses will begin at one, and will last until five. Diner begins at six, and the rest of the night is your leisure time to do whatever you like. Lights out is at nine, however, so I advise you to be in your sleeping quarters no later than eight-thirty. Oh, and about sleeping quarters! You’ll be getting new ones. Four rooms of three, with one member of each house in each room. Take it as a chance to get to know your peers better, yes? Are there any questions before we begin?”

 

Only silence follows. Guanlin wonders if anyone is just too timid to say anything, or if there’s truly nothing left to be said. The trainers scan each and every one of their faces, and Guanlin does the same for them. Despite the playful demeanor Daniel and Seongwoo had both exhibited earlier, Guanlin doesn’t doubt that these three people are all very deadly and and skilled assassins. It sends his blood boiling with fear and anticipation, eagerness to learn from them.

 

“Alright then,” Daniel finally quips in, breaking the silence. He pulls out a sheet of paper from his back pocket and loudly unfolds it, its crinkled material echoing through the hall. “It’s time to let you all know what houses you’re in. There will be four of you in each house. House of Deimos will be with me; you’re our shooters. House of Enyalios will be with Seongwoo, our hand-to-hand combatants. And lastly, House of Nike will be with Joohyun. Now listen up— I won’t repeat these for you.”

 

Again, anticipation engulfs the room. He’s certain that most of his fellow peers at least have some kind of idea as to where they’ll end up. Guanlin, however, has no clue. He hardly knows how to use a gun, and hand-to-hand combat also doesn’t seem very fitting for him. Not to mention knife-throwing… He barely knows how to work a knife in the kitchen, working with them as weapons will surely lose him a finger or two.

 

Guanlin swallows hard. The house is announced, and he has to remind himself to breathe through it all.

 

“For House of Nike…” Daniel begins, reading off of his paper. “Kim Yerim. Bae Jinyoung. Lee Daehwi. And Kim Donghyun.”

 

Guanlin looks down the line then. Not one of the mentioned students seem to be surprised with their results. Daehwi, for instance, purses his lips and nods, as if he had been expecting the assessment. Guanlin wouldn’t have pegged him as much of a blade-wielding kind of person, though. Jinyoung and Yerim, maybe Donghyun too, but certainly not Lee Daehwi.

 

“Next, House of Enyalios… Jang Yeeun. Ahn Hyungseob. Park Woojin. And Park Jihoon.” 

 

Beside him, Yeeun flinches. He looks down at the shorter girl, and while she doesn’t seemed too phased, he had certainly felt her jump a little beside him. Had she not expected to hear her name so soon?

 

And further down the line… Park Jihoon and Park Woojin hardly flinch. They’re like unmoving pieces on a chess board, accepting their fates without qualms. Neither of them even blink, and Guanlin finds it  _ just  _ a little unsettling.

 

“And of course, by default, but also due to your assessment scores, House of Deimos will be Yoo Seonho, Yeh Shuhua, Im Youngmin, and Lai Guanlin.”

 

And then it’s Guanlin’s turn to flinch in surprise. To be fair, he should have realized it earlier when his name hadn’t been called for the previous groups. But when it finally resonates with him that he’s going to be in the group specializing in firearm weaponry, he feels an uneasy feeling wash over him. He’s never picked up a gun in his life, and if he has… He certainly doesn’t remember it. A knife would’ve been better. At least it double as an everyday object that he knows how to use. Hell, he could even train himself to use his fists much easier too. But a gun… A gun sounds quite terrifying, he thinks, and how he’s ended up in this situation, he hasn’t the slightest clue.

 

He looks on at Daniel in shock, unblinking and mouth dropped in shock. Oh, right. Daniel would be his trainer, too.

 

“As for your new rooming assessments…” Daniel begins again, flipping the paper over to the opposite side. “In one room, we have Ahn Hyungseob, Lee Daehwi, and Yoo Seonho. The second will be Yeh Shuhua, Jang Yeeun, and Kim Yerim. The third room; Park Woojin, Kim Donghyun, and Im Youngmin. And the last room— Park Jihoon, Bae Jinyoung, and Lai Guanlin.”

 

Again, he’s announced last, and again, he should’ve expected it. But there’s still a small pinch of anxiety that comes with hearing Park Jihoon’s name called out with his own. Unable to help himself, he looks over at the other assassin again. Jihoon merely nods in acknowledgment as Daniel tucks the paper away once more.  _ He’s way too cool,  _ Guanlin thinks to himself.

 

“Any last questions before training begins?” Daniel asks, raising a brow at the lot of them.

 

“I… I don’t get it,” Guanlin finally blurts, swallowing hard.

 

All eyes are focused on him again, and he feels his stomach turn upside down. Daniel’s gaze in particular is incredibly taxing, but he’s determined this time not to falter in returning it. 

 

“What don’t you get?” Daniel asks.

 

“How I was chosen to be in Deimos,” Guanlin states simply. “Everyone else has gone through an assessment test of their skills but me. How could you possibly know that I’d be a good shooter?”

 

Daniel stares long and hard at him, and Guanlin is so close to giving in with the other’s uncomfortable look. What he  _ doesn’t  _ expect is for the trainer to smile at him, a playful, yet mischievous look in his eyes as he gives a baffling answer.

 

“Perhaps we know you much better than you think, Guanlin-ah.”

 

Dumbfounded, the teen blinks in confusion, while Daniel hardly spares him another look. What’s that supposed to mean…?

 

“Any other questions? No? Good. Seongwoo?”

 

“Well,” Seongwoo begins, clapping his hands together. “ Now that we’ve got all that covered, I’m afraid we’ve wasted quite a bit of training time, haven’t we, Joohyun?” Beside him, Joohyun nods affirmatively. “I think that calls for some kind of punishment.”

 

The student’s eyes all go wide at Seongwoo’s words. “Three miles around the gym’s track. Now.”

 

The whistle blows, and all of them are in motion before they can process any other thoughts.

 

—

 

The first day of training is a complete  _ mess,  _ Guanlin thinks, and it’s not even his own experiences that validate the statement. To begin with, there had been Seonho and Hyungseob, both who had been unable to finish their three miles, but for different reasons each. Hyungseob had nearly fainted, while Seonho had thrown up on the track. The remaining students had to tip-toe around Seonho’s breakfast to finish their own laps. Guanlin himself had almost thrown up at the smell. During the stretching routine, someone had been caught talking when it was supposed to be silent (Daehwi possibly?), and as a result, Seongwoo had demanded another mile, which meant more vomit and Hyungseob passing out once again due to his fatigue. Joohyun removes them both from training for the rest of the day after that.

 

Admittedly, training had tired Guanlin out, too. He’s sure that it’s been a while since he’s engaged in much physical activity, so the four miles they run feels like an eternity, with his lungs on fire and his sides cramping up in pain. Sweat collects on his brow, and even when he’s not training, he feels disgustingly gross. During their lunch break, Guanlin just decides to take a nap instead, hiding in a janitor’s closet before chugging a substantial amount of water to ensure his hydration for the second half of training.

 

The gun-handling begins then. With Seonho out, and only him, Youngmin, and Shuhua left in Deimos for the day, Daniel is much more capable of teaching him in depth how to use the weapon. Pointing and shooting seems rather easy. But even so, when Daniel brings him to a firing range to take his first shots, Guanlin realizes it isn’t quite as easy as he had thought it would be, especially if his targets can actually shoot back. His gun feels heavy, and his aim is far from accurate, but there’s still some kind of strange comfort that settles over him; wielding a gun feels both unnatural, and natural, as if it’s the most comfortable thing in the world for him, or will be in the future, anyways. Perhaps Daniel had been right to bring him into Deimos after all.

 

Daniel is likeable, too. Strict when he needs to be, but also somewhat encouraging, especially as Guanlin still tries to figure out the basics. He doesn’t nag him when Guanlin completely misses a target and almost puts a hole in the wall, and he cheers him on when he hits his first bullseye. Guanlin thinks he could learn a lot from him.

 

Still, the day manages to tire him out entirely. He absentmindedly joins Seonho and Shuhua for dinner (Shuhua brings Yeeun to their table too, but Guanlin is too tired to manage more than a smile and a polite wave in her direction) before heading off to the main sleeping quarters, gathering his belongings so he can move into his new room with fewer roommates.

 

He frowns a little. He’s going to miss Seonho a little.

 

His new room isn’t far from the old one. It’s in the same hallway, and he’s able to open it up with just a quick scan of his thumb. It’s neat, he thinks, grinning in amusement as he sets foot into the room.

 

It seems that Jihoon and Jinyoung have both gotten to the room before him, because already, two of the beds have been taken. There are some personal belongings on the single bed in the corner of the room, as well as the bottom bunk of the bunkbed in the opposite corner of the room. Guanlin frowns. He had been hoping he wouldn’t end up with the top bunk. His legs ache as he crawls up the ladder, tossing his things on to the mattress before letting out a sigh.

 

He wants to sleep. But he needs to shower first.

 

A childish whine escapes before he crawls back down the bunk. If he lies down now, he knows he won’t wake back up, and with a nine o’ clock bedtime, he certainly won’t get to shower in time. Exhausted, he trudges towards the door, about to open up when it opens on its own, another figure entering from the opposite side.

 

Of all people, he certainly hadn’t expected Minhyun to come and visit him so late, and by the grin on his face, it’s almost as if the older had been expecting Guanlin to be the only one in the room. Guanlin frowns at his presence. “What do you want?” he immediately quips.

 

“How was your first day of training?” Minhyun asks, his cheerful tone contradicting Guanlin’s bland and uninterested one.

 

“Fine,” he states. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a shower so I can go to bed.”

 

He tries to push past Minhyun, but the director only steps into his path, blocking his way out. “Not so fast. There’s someone else I want you to meet before you sleep tonight. I think he’ll be rather useful to you during your time here.”

 

At his words, Guanlin quirks a brow in amusement. “Useful? What’s that supposed to mean? And why do you care about what my time here is like?”

 

Minhyun fakes a frown, pursing his lips at the other. “It’s not like I’m trying to make your time here  _ unenjoyable,  _ Guanlin. I’m just doing what needs to be done. You don’t have any complaints about it, do you?”

 

It’s a sincere question, and as Guanlin thinks about it a little, he realizes that, no. Minhyun really hasn’t done much to make him doubt his intentions, other than make him believe he’d be killed if he were to decline admission into the program. That’s a pretty big thing. But even so, he’s been nothing but truthful about what to expect from the program. It’s just the weird vibe that he gets from Minhyun that makes his skin crawl whenever he near, like Minhyun has something in store for him that he isn’t quite aware of just yet.

 

“No,” he finally replies, sighing a little. “Who is it, then? Who do you want me to meet?”

 

Minhyun smiles then, straightening up a little. “His name is Ha Sungwoon, and he’s on the third floor, room eleven. He’ll be expecting you, so don’t keep him waiting to long. Though you can still wash up first, if that’s what you wish to do first.”

 

“Mm, alright,” Guanlin hums. “Can I be excused now?”

 

At that, Minhyun chuckles, shaking his head at the other. “I suppose. I’ll see you soon then, Guanlin.”

 

With that, Minhyun leaves, turning on his heel and leaving the hallway without turning back. Guanlin watches him go, eyeing him suspiciously until he’s completely out of sight.

 

—

 

As advised, Guanlin decides to shower first before visiting this Sungwoon person. Not only does he feel gross and smelly, but he doesn’t want to make a bad impression on the other, even if he’s to be something just as off-putting as Minhyun.

 

When he’s all washed up, he finally heads to the third floor, room eleven, where Minhyun said he’d be. It’s a little after eight, and there’s not many people around. It gives the place a rather creepy feeling, but he sticks it out anyways. Just get through this, and he can finally get some much-needed sleep, he reminds himself.

 

Guanlin almost misses room eleven entirely, only realizing he had skipped past it when he sees a big “room twelve” sign on the door beside it. He skips back then, attempting to peakinto the room before he goes any further. The windows is frosted, however, so it’s a little hard to see anything. He can only make out a light source and desk, what he thinks might be someone sitting at it, but he isn’t really sure. There’s only one way to find out, however, and he finally brings himself to knock, waiting for a reply before allowing himself in.

 

“Come in,” someone calls to him. Obediently, he opens up, slowly pulling the door ajar.

 

As expected, there’s a desk in the room, and it’s brightly lit with a simple desk lamp, and a few overlight bulbs from above. There are two chair on either side of the desk, one of the chairs occupied by someone that Guanlin hasn’t seen around here before.

 

“Are you Ha Sungwoon?” he asks, blinking at the stranger as he stares up at him from his seat. The other man smiles softly before nodding.

 

“I am Sungwoo, yes. I’m assuming you’re Guanlin then? It’s nice to meet you.” Sungwoon stands then, reaching across the desk to shake his hand. Guanlin firsts notices his height— he must be a whole head shorter than him, but he certainly doesn’t doubt that he’s got a few years on him, age wise. His face looks mature yet youthful, healthy skin glowing and his full lips round as he smiles at him. His handshake is firm, and Guanlin grins back as Sungwoon gestures for him to take a seat across from him.

 

“Minhyun told me you’d be coming today,” he explains. “I’m excited to get to know you this year.”

 

At that, Guanlin blinks a little, leaning in as if he hadn’t heard Sungwoon correctly. “Hold on— get to know me? What does that mean?”

 

This time, it’s Sungwoon’s turn to be confused. “Minhyun didn’t tell you? Ah, he’s so secretive for no reason, all the time, I swear… I’m sorry about that. But to clarify for you, I’m the counselor here at the Ares Project.”

 

Guanlin tilts his head in confusion. “Counselor…? What does that mean?” He’s certain that he’s never experienced counseling before, and he certainly doesn’t know what that entails.

 

“It means that I’m here to talk to you whenever you need me,” Sungwoon hums, offering another smile. “It doesn’t mean you have to visit me everyday, but… If there’s ever something you need to talk about, whether it’s the stress of what’s happening to you right now, or even if you’re just frustrated with training, then I’ll be here to listen to you and your problems. I have to warn you though, I’ve been told I can be brutally honest sometimes. You might not always want to hear something from me, but I tell it like it is and won’t lie to you, Guanlin.” 

 

Guanlin laughs then, but there’s still a sense of gratefulness that resonates in his chest. It’s the first time in the past few days that he’s felt really welcomed, other than when he had met Seonho and Shuhua the day before. Sungwoon seems sincere, and Guanlin feels gratitude, knowing that there’s someone that he can confide in at any time he sees fit.

 

“Thank you,” he finally manages, laughter dying down into a warm smile. “That sounds really nice… I’ll be sure to come visit you when I can.”

 

“Sounds perfect,” Sungwoon nods. “Is there anything you want to talk about now?”

 

“Mmm.. No, not right now,” Guanlin says, shaking his head. “Frankly, I just want to get to bed for the night…”

 

“Oh, right!” Sungwoon exclaims. “I shouldn’t keep you too long then, don’t want you to be late for curfew… I just wanted to say hello, and make sure you know I’m here, alright? Get some rest, kid! And don’t let Daniel tell you what to do so much either— that guy only knows what he’s talking about 88%o of the time. Kidding! But really, take it easy, okay? I know this is a stressful time, but you can make it through this. I’m sure you can.”

 

Immediately, Guanlin feels a weight lift off his chest, just with the sincerity of Sungwoon’s words. In his time here so far, he’s found that reassurance and comfort seem to be rare. He’s been moving so quickly that he hadn’t even considered how important small words of encouragement could make a difference. Sungwoon’s words suddenly make his exhaustion seem more physical than mental. Surely there’s still lots to worry about, but at least in this moment, he feels at ease.

 

“Thank you..” Guanlin smiles. “Really, thank you. I’ll stop by again soon, alright?”

 

Sungwoon nods then in understand. “Sounds perfect. Get some rest kid, you deserve it.”

 

With that, Guanlin waves goodbye to Sungwoo, letting the door quietly close behind him before heading back to his room once more. It occurs then to Guanlin that perhaps Minhyun  _ isn’t  _ as bad as he seems; not if he had been so eager to introduce him to someone like Sungwoon. At the same time, it’s the thought that Minhyun isn’t bad as he seems that makes Guanlin consider that perhaps it  _ really  _ is time for bed now. 

 

With a yawn, he heads back to his room, eager to finally enjoy his well-deserved sleep. 

 

Perhaps the Ares Project won’t be as bad as he had expected. 

 

—

 

After the day’s activities conclude, sleep comes easily for Guanlin, and once again, he ends up falling asleep as soon as his head hits the soft pillows beneath them.

 

But that doesn’t mean that his sleep is peaceful.

 

In fact, it seems to be anything but. There’s a lot of darkness. When he looks around, there’s absolutely nothing. But Guanlin’s subconscious is awake; it’s the only reason he knows that this is a dream, and that he’s not just simply staring at the back of his eyelids as he sleeps.

 

Confusion settles in then. Guanlin isn’t afraid of the dark, and he isn’t afraid of the unknown either. Still, an unsettling feeling settles in his chest as he struggles to see, struggles to find meaning to this never-ending darkness.

 

And then it happens. A light flashes. Then two. Two circular lights that are parallel to each other flash brightly in his direction, almost blinding in the darkness. Then when he blinks, he’s no longer surrounded by pitch-blacknesss; his senses are attacked with an entirely different setting. A quick look around tells him he’s in a car, and the fresh scent of leather tells him that it has leather seats, and a fresh-pine air freshener that’s a bit to strong for Guanlin’s liking. A car…? Is that where he is?

 

Outside of the car, it still seems to be pitch black, the only light resulting from the car’s interior, and the headlights in front of them. Guanlin doesn’t like this one bit, and as he bites his lip nervously, a voice suddenly calls out to him.

 

“We’re almost there, Guanlin. Just a few more minutes.”

 

He looks up then in shock; sitting there beside him is his father, and he’s smiling down at him reassuringly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Guanlin is too shocked to respond, only stares up at him with his pupils quivering in shock. “N-no…” he stutters. “No, you’re…”

 

“What’s wrong, Guanlin?” another voice speaks, this one softer, more feminine and gentle. He turns in the other direction, and sure enough, sitting on his opposite side is his mother, her expression one of great worry for her son’s well-being. 

 

A pain strikes Guanlin’s chest, and it feels like he’s being suffocated, like someone is squeezing his heart until it’s forced in two. Tears start to prick in his eyes in his disbelief as he looks back and for between his two parents. The teen shakes his head as he cowers, feeling his head spin in heartbreak and confusion.

 

And then there’s another light. Two, actually. The same two lights from earlier, and they flash directly in front of him, directly in front of the car. As Guanlin looks up, he notices they’re coming closer and closer and closer, and he can’t look away. He blinks tears out of his eyes in hopes that the lights will become less blurry, ignores the calls of his name that seem to fade pathetically into the background. All at once, the lights start to become clearer, closer, until Guanlin hears the loud honk of a horn in his ear, and then—

 

_ “GUANLIN!” _

 

Guanlin wakes with a jolt then, shooting out of bed with his heart pounding in his chest. It takes a moment for him to collect himself, remind himself that it had been nothing more than a dream… An extremely vivid dream that had felt all too real. Why had it felt so familiar…? Maybe….

 

“GUANLIN!”

 

His name is called again, except this time, it’s not just a voice in his dream. Shocked, he turns, and standing there at the ladder is Jihoon. Except he doesn’t look like the cool and collected Jihoon that Guanlin has gotten accustomed to. Rather, Jihoon looks somewhat panicked, a sense of urgency present in both the way he speaks, and the expression on his face.

 

“I need you to get up. Right now,” he demands.

 

“What?” Guanlin asks groggily, remnants of sleep still clouding his vision. ‘Why?”

 

“The doors won’t unlock, and the room is flooding. We’re going to drown.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> penny and ser wouldn't rabbit with me unless i updated so here's an update i hope you're both happy (gnfiohf i love u both)
> 
> twitter: https://twitter.com/wannnabyui  
> curiouscat: https://curiouscat.me/wannbyui


	4. FOUR.

The first thought Guanlin has is whether he knows how to swim or not. But obviously, that doesn’t matter, because unless he’s able to breathe underwater, he’s probably going to end up dead, swimming knowledge be damned.

 

As he finally begins to fully understand the situation he’s in, he scrambles to the edge of the bed, looking over the edge. Sure enough, water has begun to fill the room from the ground up. While the rate it rises isn’t totally alarming, it’s bound to fill up in now time. Guanlin swallows hard.

 

He looks over at Jihoon, who’s still hanging on to the ladder, but for the most part, looks concentrated, but still, rather calm. Jinyoung is in over in the single bed, standing on top of it, a quizzical look on his face, as if he’s trying to figure out what to do next.

 

Guanlin, however, feels a sense of panic rise to his chest. “What the hell is this—?!”

 

“It’s a test,” Jihoon answers right away. “They’re trying to see if we can escape.”

 

The youngest’s eyes widen. “A test..? I don’t, I’m…” he trails off as his gaze darts across the room. He’s not going to survive this. There’s no way. Frightened, he shakes his head, trying to will his hands to stop shaking, but they don’t. 

 

Jihoon looks up at him them, eyes determined as he climbs to ladder a little higher, until he’s face to face with Guanlin. “Look at me,” he demands, and Guanlin does. Their eyes meet, and Guanlin’s breath immediately catches in his throat. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.”

 

Nodding, he listens to Jihoon and sucks in a few deep breaths, in and out until he feels himself relax a little. An uneasy feeling lingers, but as Jihoon walks him through his breathing exercises, he finds that he doesn’t find himself  _ as  _ stressed as he hand been moments before. 

 

“We’re going to survive, hear me?” Jihoon promises. Guanlin feels silly, having to be babied like this, but he nods anyways in response, swallowing hard. “Good.”

 

“Hey,” Jinyoung interrupts. He’s stepped into the large pool of water that’s already started to fill the room. It reaches to his ankles already. “I think I found the pipes that are flooding the water into the room… It won’t last long, but if we can clog it, then we might buy ourselves more time.”

 

Jihoon blinks at him then, biting his lip. “That could work. It’s a puzzle though. We still have to figure out how to get the door open. Otherwise we’re fucked either way.”

 

Guanlin winces at his words, but he’s absolutely right. Unless they find a way out of this, it’s going to be the end.  _ How pitiful,  _ he thinks,  _ To be wiped out on the very first day. _

 

“There’s nothing, though,” Jinyoung huffs, trudging through the water. “Just these stupid steel walls, the beds, and our own personal belongings..”

 

At his words, Guanlin frowns. There has to be more than that. He looks around frantically, trying to find anything tangible, or even just a simple hint.

 

Perhaps it’s because his top bunk that he’s able to spot it first, but in one of the corners of the room at the very top of the wall, he finds a number etched into the wall.  _ 3. _

 

He blinks at it— for a moment, he’s convinced it’s not really there, and that he’s only seeing things. But a closer look confirms the two half circles that make up the number, and he jumps up suddenly, adrenaline rushing through his body. “There—! A number…”

 

Jihoon looks then too, and in the meantime, Guanlin turns to the other corner, squinting and trying to see if he can find anything there as well. Sure enough, a small number 8 is written on the wall there, too. He checks the last few corners too; numbers 2 and 9 come out.

 

“3-8-2-9…” Jihoon trails, whispering to himself, tapping his chin as he thinks quickly. “It’s definitely a code we need to enter somewhere, but first, we need to find out where… It might be the wrong order, too.” 

 

At that, Guanlin frowns. He’s not good at this sort of thing, and he’s worried that they really won’t make it out of this. Still, he trusts Jihoon and Jinyoung. If anyone knows what they’re doing, then they certainly do, and that gives him just the  _ slightest  _ sliver of hope, no matter how minuscule and unimportant it may be. 

 

“It’s here, I’m sure,” Jinyoung comments. He’s over by the door, looking at the keypad that they use to exit the room. As Guanlin squints down at it, he notices four blank spaces on the screen— perfect for the code that he’s found. “We just need to know the order.”

 

Jihoon purses his lips then. “Keep looking for hints, then.” He turns to Guanlin— “Come on, help us look.”

 

Guanlin nods then, and as Jihoon climbs down the ladder, he swings himself off the edge, landing it the water. It reaches to his calves, and a wave of anxiety washes over him as he thinks about it actually reaching his height. But he forces himself to focus, just as Jihoon had willed him to. Now isn’t the time to panic. 

 

Along with the other two, he begins to search throughout the room for more clues. He searches through the walls first. If he had been able to find a hint in the corner of the rooms first, then maybe there’s something else he’s missing, too. But there’s nothing but giant bolts plated into the steel walls. He gives up then, quickly moving elsewhere.

 

As Jihoon searches through the nightstands, he climbs up his bed again, reaching up for the lightbulb that’s screwed into the ceiling. It’s a reach, but he’s still able to twist it undone, pulling the bulb close to him to see if there’s anything significant about it. Quickly, he screws it open, and sure enough, there’s a note inside of it. 

 

“I found something!” He announces, shouting over the water that rushes into the room. “It’s a compass, but its numbered instead—?”

 

“Let me see!” Jinyoung yells up at him.

 

Hurriedly, he hops out of his bunk again, ignoring the splash of water around his legs. He shows it to Jinyoung then, and Jihoon crowds over his shoulder as they quickly work to decipher it’s message. “It’s the order we put the numbers into the keypad, for sure. See how the number one is where south should be? So we put the number on the south wall in first.”

 

“Which is the south wall…?” Guanlin asks, puzzled. 

 

“This one,” Jihoon says, pointing to his right without hesitation. “This room is in the south-most hall of headquarters, so if we were to continue going this way, then we’d be going south. So we start here.”

 

Guanlin feels chills run down his spine from how quickly the two of them are able to think so flawlessly, especially in a situation like this. He nods at Jihoon’s words before peeking at the number on the south wall again— “Two!” he shouts. “The south wall is two.”

 

“Then west—?”

 

“Nine.”

 

“East?” 

 

“Eight… 2-9-8-3!” Guanlin announces loudly.

 

“Put it in!” Jihoon adds, and Jinyoung rushes to the keypad, nearly toppling over as the water reaches his thighs. He punches the numbers in, and when the screen lights up green, Guanlin almost jumps for joy. They  _ did  _ it.

 

“It can’t be that simple, though…” Jihoon sighs behind him, biting at his bottom lip. Guanlin turns to him then, heart sinking a little.

 

And of course, he’s right. The door doesn’t open simply open with the code. Instead, a small slot at the bottom of the keypad pops open, much like a drawer would. Inside of it, another tiny slip of paper. Jinyoung tears it from where it sits, bringing it close to his face so he can properly read it. “What?” he squeaks. “I don’t understand this…”

 

“Let me—” Jihoon interrupts, reaching out and snatching it from his hands. Jinyoung doesn’t protest, however, only bites his lip as Jihoon reads the slip of paper out loud. “Your princess is in another castle…? This is from a video game…”

 

Guanlin thinks long and hard about what the note could mean. How it pertains to their escape room, he isn’t quite sure. The room is devoid of any imagery of princesses or castles, anything in that likeliness.  _ It makes no sense,  _ Guanlin thinks.  _ Unless… _

 

“The girls’ dorm,” he blurts out. “They’re in trouble.”

 

Jinyoung gives him a quizzical look. “What? How can you—”

 

“He’s right,” Jihoon confirms. “There’s trouble here, but they’re in even more trouble over there.”

 

As if things couldn’t stink even more, there’s suddenly confirmation that they’re not the only ones in this situation. Not only that, but the situation at the girls’ dorm could be potentially worse. It’s hard not to worry, but he has to think about himself first. He can’t do anything to help them out if he dies here.

 

The water reaches up to his waist now, and he’s not sure if it’s just him, but it seems to be rising at a much faster rate now.  _ Don’t panic,  _ he reminds himself once more, taking a deep breath to relax himself again.

 

“Is that it?” Guanlin asks. Jihoon flips the note then, finding more obscure hints scrawled on to the back of it. This time, it’s a symbol of sorts, lineart of a shield with a sword piercing through it. He’s pretty sure he’s seen it somewhere, but he can’t remember where.

 

“That’s the program’s logo,” Jihoon quips, pointing at the note. “Did you see it anywhere in the room?”

 

Guanlin bites his lip then. “No… No. I don’t recall..”

 

Jihoon curses under his breath then, taking a moment to think before a sigh escapes his lips. “Alright, keep looking. It’s getting dangerous in here.”

 

He peeks over at the other male, then. Jihoon is quite shorter than him, and the water already reaches his chest, soaking his t-shirt. Small droplets of water have splashed into his hair and against his cheeks. He’s going to have to start swimming soon, Guanlin thinks.

 

Unexpectantly, Jihoon sucks in a deep breath before submerging himself in the water, swimming beneath the surface. “Jihoon!” Guanlin calls out worriedly, but of course, he gets no response. The room is exceptionally dark now, with one of the lightbulbs out of place. He hopes that the other will be safe, but for now, he can’t just sit around and hope for his safety. He wades around too, searching for other hints before they disappear beneath the water.

 

“It’s getting too high…” Jinyoung notes. The water is almost to his chest as well, but as he chooses to start swimming instead, only his head is suddenly visible above the surface.

 

_ Think, Guanlin, think.  _ There really doesn’t seem to be much left in the room to investigate. It’s practically empty, so whoever had planned this hellish escape room clearly hadn’t thought things through. Though the hints have been what simple, the circumstances, as well as the extremely minimalistic approach makes Guanlin worry more than he should. 

 

Just then, Jihoon resurfaces, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. He slicks his hair back before swimming to Guanlin’s side, an object his hand that he waves around as he calls out to him. “I found this!”

 

At first, he recognizes the object as a book, leatherbound, but dripping wet with water. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that it’s actually a diary, the program’s insignia embossed neatly onto the front. “I saw it earlier, but there didn’t seem to be out of the ordinary, then. I wish I had grabbed it then… A lot of the ink has probably bled because of the water…”

 

“It’s fine,” Guanlin reassures. “Is there anything significant inside of it now that you can make out?”

 

“Yeah,” Jihoon breathes back, flipping it open. “Yeah, there was this quote in large letters…Here! ‘It is that which holds things together that often opens the most doors’…I can barely read it, but I think that’s what it says..”

 

“Holds things together…?” Guanlin knits his brows together in thought. Jinyoung joins them then, his efforts to find anything helpful seemingly futile.  _ Holds things together…? Could it be…? _

 

“The bolts in the walls?” Guanlin suggests, looking from Jihoon to Jinyoung, eyes widen as adrenaline courses through him. The water is to his chin now, and Jihoon and Jinyoung are both already wading in the water to stay afloat. It’s only a matter of time before Guanlin is the same. “There’s a few of them, but they’re all pretty big. Maybe they’re actually our way out of here.”

 

“So what, we just press the bolts in the walls and hope that one of them is a button that will open a door for us? That’s insane,” Jinyoung retorts skeptically. 

 

“Did you find anything better? Or think of anything better?” Guanlin replies in an annoyed tone. He could be nicer, but the water has risen high enough that he’s swimming in it now too. The ceiling isn’t far ahead. Soon, the whole room will be filled.

 

“Let’s just try it,” Jihoon says, barely keeping his chin above the surface. Take a wall, press all of the bolts in. Got it? Whoever finishes first, check the fourth wall, too.”

 

Across from him, Jinyoung looks uncertain, but he finally sighs and gives in. “Fine. If we don’t make it out of this alive, I swear, I’m going to haunt you both.”

 

Guanlin would laugh in any other situation, but right now is hardly the time. As they all finally come to an agreement, the water finally rises completely to the top. Each of them have time for one last breath before they’re all submerged under the water’s dense, dimly lit surface.

 

Immediately, Guanlin swims down to one of the four walls in the room, assessing it before he begins. He counts eight bolts, which means he shouldn’t waste a single second. Right away, he starts pushing his palms against them, two by two. The further down he goes, the more lightheaded he begins to feel, but he pushes on, pressing the bolts that are closest the the floor, too. Nothing seems to work however, and as he looks around to see if Jihoon and Jinyoung have been successful either, both of them seem to already swimming the fourth wall.

 

He feels so lightheaded, though, and whether it’s because of the lack of oxygen or the extreme stress of their predicament, he doesn’t really know. But he can’t give up like this. Determined, he pushes himself forward, swimming toward the fourth wall as well, down towards the bottom, where Jihoon and Jinyoung haven’t reached just yet. He starts pushing on the bolts too— the first and second don’t do anything, and as Jihoon and Jinyoung finish up top, he realizes then that they’re down to their very last bolt.

 

_ This is it,  _ he thinks. It better work, or they’re all going to die like this. 

 

With all the hope in the world, he shoves his hand against the bolt, closing his eyes as he can’t bear to see the result.

 

Behind his eyelids, a green light flashes. Suddenly, the seams in the steel plates become wider and wider, until it reaches the size of a doorway. Guanlin feels himself being pulled forward, and that’s when he opens his eyes in shock, a bright light penetrating through the darkness and shining brightly.

 

Water rushes through the door that opens, and it continues to flow out until it is no longer a pool of water, but lame puddles that stain the pristine linoleum floors.

 

Gualin breathes. And then he coughs hard. Water had filled his lungs, and he chokes to clear it completely out. His backside hurts a little, as he had landed harshly on the floor as the water had seeped out of the room. But he’s  _ alive.  _ He, Jihoon, and Jinyoung are all alive.

 

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “We did it. We really did it!”

 

He cheers excitedly then; beside him, Jihoon and Jinyoung both look rather surprised still, but a smile graces both of their lips. They truly have done it, Guanlin thinks, and he feels a sense of accomplishment swell in his chest.

 

But then the first note comes to mind.

 

_ Your princess is in another castle. _

 

“The girls,” he breathes out. “We need to go to them now—!” Barefoot, and without missing a beat, Guanlin scrambles to his feet, running straight for the girls dorm. It just a little down the hall, and if he rushes, he’s certain he can get there in time before the three of them run out of air.

 

When he finally reaches them, he skids to a halt, panicking once more as he’s met with only steel doors and the bright green keypad in front of it. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to help from the outside, as he can’t get in without scanning on of the girl’s hands. He curses to himself; could they really not be saved.

 

Frustrated, he slicks his hair back, searching around him for something,  _ anything  _ that might help. But there’s nothing in sight, not a single thing that can help. And then—

 

_ “Move _ —! _ ”  _ A voice screams from behind him. His eyes widen, and he barely has time to process what’s going on before Jihoon is charging from behind him with a fire extinguisher in hand. He watches as Jihoon smashes the object hard against the keypad, cracking the screen without fail. He slams it into the device again, and it’s screen goes from a tauntingly bright green screen to completely dull and black. 

 

The door opens then. It’s slow, but the water rushes out immediately afterwards, flooding the hallways once more. Guanlin, braces himself for the onslaught, holding his breath until the water level dies down once more, only leaving a heap of coughing bodies in its wake.

 

Guanlin looks around then. Shuhua, Yeeun, and Yerim all have escaped their rooms safely. Another wave of relief rushes over him as other trainees file out of their rooms too. Seonho’s room is first, with Daehwi and Hyungseob following closely behind him. Seonho whines over the fact that they hadn’t been first, but Guanlin is just glad to see the other boy alive and well. Woojin, Donghyun, and Youngmin are last, but they also just seem to be relieved that every else has made it out alive as well.

 

“I can’t believe this! They really tried to kill us on the first night of training! What the hell!” Seonho rambles on. Everyone else seems too shaken up to say a word. Guanlin leans tiredly against one of the walls, and Shuhua sits beside him, head thrown back as she still attempts to catch her breath.

 

“I bet this was that Hwang Minhyun’s doing,” Seonho grits his teeth. “He’s handsome and all, but he’s the only one crazy enough to think of something as bizarre as this. He’s so… so—!”

 

“So what, Yoo Seonho?”

 

Just then, and unxpected voice rings through the hall. Guanlin looks for the owner of the voice that suddenly interrupts Seonho’s ranting, and sure enough, Hwang Minhyun stands tall and dignified, right behind the youngest student, not a single drop of water staining the nice dress shirt he’s wearing. Guanlin frowns, because who wears dress shirts at this time of night.

 

“Oh,” Seonho shrinks then. “It’s nothing, I just—”

 

_ “You!”  _

 

Another voice breaks through, this time, one Guanlin finds he really isn’t all that familiar with. There’s a blur, and then a loud slam. He blinks and practically misses everything, because in one second, Minhyun is standing sinisterly behind Seonho, and in the next, he’s pinned against the wall, with none other than Jang Yeeun holding him against it, venom in her eyes. She looks furious, angered. The shock is apparent in everyone’s expressions, and even Guanlin cannot believe what he’s seeing.

 

“You planned this shit, didn’t you?” she snarls. “ _ Didn’t  _ you? Well I’ll tell your snobby ass right now that you might run this place and think you can do whatever the hell you want. You almost  _ killed  _ us. And you think I wouldn’t notice how you practically set the girls dorm up for failure? There was  _ nothing  _ for us— you really just expected us to sit around and wait for these assholes to come and save us, like a damsel in distress.”

 

Her grip on his shirt tightens then. “I made it into this school fair and square, and if you’re not going to give me or the other girls a fair chance at proving we can do just as well as any of these  _ boys,  _ then I want no part of your shitty program.”

 

It’s silent then. Not a soul can believe what Yeeun’s just said— except for Minhyun himself. The look on his face is so stoic and unreadable, that for a moment, Guanlin wonders if he’s even human. He expects some kind of lashing out, anger on his part, something that spells out trouble for Yeeun. But Minhyun just keeps a straight face before a foxlike smile finally spreads over his lips, baffling all of them at once.

 

“The purpose of that message had been to see if you would continue to attempt to escape, even after being told that there was no chance for you. It was a test, and you failed,” Minhyun replies calmly. Yeeun’s pupils shake, and the grip on his shirt loosens then, as the older continues to speak. “And I don’t doubt a single one of my students. I know how fully capable all of you are, but the point of this program is to test those capabilities, and broaden your skills beyond what you’re comfortable with.”

 

He motions towards Guanlin, Jihoon, and Jinyoung then. “Perhaps you should thank  _ those  _ three assholes for saving your life tonight.”

 

Yeeun’s grip loosens completely then, and she looks down, undoubtedly feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Guanlin wants to comfort her, but he has a feeling that Minhyun isn’t quite finished yet, especially as he dusts off his shirt and clears his throat, looking over all of his exhausted students. “Let me be clear that  _ all _ of you chose to be here. Whether it’s your own will or the will of your family, you’re not here because we sought you out. You’re free to leave at any time you wish. We are not here to tell you that you’re not good enough. We’re here to help you prove that you are. Dropping out will do nothing for you. All it does is suggest that  _ you  _ believe that  _ you’re  _ not good enough, and once you’re beyond that point, there’s nothing we can do for you.”

 

No one dares speak. Guanlin looks down and purses his lips at his words. He feels like he’s been scolded for something he hasn’t done, yet he still feels guilty, somehow. It’s the first time he’s receiving Minhyun’s words without feeling spite towards the older man. Even so, it’s still quite unsettling. He just finds that he doesn’t have the energy to let it show. Not after tonight.

 

“Good work to all of you,” Minhyun finally says. “We’ll have employees clean and dry out your rooms so you can sleep in them again tomorrow night, and I can assure you that you won’t have this kind of threat on your lives again. For now, you’ll sleep in the dorm you all slept in the first couple of nights, is that clear?” No vocal objections are made. Minhyun smiles contentedly. “Good. See you all bright and early tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

 

He disappears then, leaving the both mentally and physically exhausted students to hang tiredly in the hallway.

 

—

 

Of course, Minhyun isn’t really at breakfast the next morning. Guanlin doesn’t expect that he’ll ever come and eat breakfast with them. 

 

Surprisingly, however, Yeeun still is. Truthfully, he had expected her to pack her things up and leave after her ranting yesterday, but she’s still there, sitting alone at the same table. Shuhua hasn’t arrived quite yet, otherwise he’s sure she wouldn’t be entirely alone.

 

She looks quite miserable. All of the do, most likely still worn out from last night. Guanlin himself hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as every time he finally managed to fall into slumber, he had awakened to the thought of the room potentially flooding again. 

 

As much as he wanted to hate Minhyun for his stupid little test, however, Guanlin could understand his reasoning behind it. He wouldn’t question the ideals of the program, not if its intentions are true, and going to help him out in the long run.

 

Still, he can sympathize with Yeeun and her own concerns, and perhaps that’s what draws him to sit with her at breakfast, sliding his tray on to the table before taking a seat across from her, offering a tired smile. “Good morning,” he hums quietly.

 

Yeeun only looks up to take note of who’s come to disturb her before she looks down again, tossing a barely touched plate of food. “Hello,” she replies blankly.

 

Guanlin doesn’t really know what to say to her. Aside from Shuhua’s quick introduction, he hasn’t really spoken to Yeeun, but he gets the feeling that she isn’t one to open up to people very easily. Guanlin doesn’t want to disturb her, but he at least wants to make sure that she isn’t feeling alone in all of this.

 

“I just wanted to say that, um.. It was really brave of you to stand up against Minhyun like that,” he mutters, scrambling his brain for the right words. “And I think your points were valid, even though he tried to prove you wrong.”

 

Yeeun looks up at him then, actions halting as she raises a brow questioningly. Guanlin wonders if he’s said anything wrong, but just as she had before, she simply continues to mix her food before finally taking a bite, eating it without a word to the boy in front of her.

 

Guanlin frowns a little, but he doesn’t give up. “I just… Did you try to escape at all? How did you know that they had set you up?”

 

She sighs then before straightening up, setting her utensil down and leaning back in her seat. The look she gives Guanlin is scary, but he keeps eye contact, listening to her as she speaks. “There was a vent connecting our room to Seonho, Daehwi, and Woojin’s. We realized we could communicate with each other through it, so we used it to try and figure things out together.”

 

The male blinks in surprise at that. He finds it strange that the circumstances the roommates had been under were all different, as he had expected everyone would have to go through the same exact tasks.

 

“We couldn’t figure out if we were supposed to exchange hints through the vents or not, but then Woojin eventually found the first clue. Our keypad system was down at the time, but theirs worked, so we assumed that if they got out, we eventually would too,” she continues on, a hint of irritation in her voice. “We couldn’t find any hints though, no matter how hard we looked. Yerim only found a notebook with an image of a crown on it, and we weren’t sure what it meant.

 

“That’s when they unlocked the first code and got the note.”

 

Immediately, Guanlin knows what she’s talking about. His heart sinks a little, to know that all three of the boys’ dorms had been sent to “rescue” the girls, and that the girls had been tricked into believing that they were completely helpless in the situation. He frowns at Yeeun before pursing his lips, letting her continue.

 

“Woojin told us what it said, and Yerim easily connected it to the crown.  _ Princess.  _ Hah. He doesn’t really expect me to believe that he did this to test our resilience. That’s a load of crap,” she says, letting out a howl of comical laughter. 

 

“Maybe he did?” Guanlin offers, as some sort of reassurance, for the benefit of the doubt,  _ something,  _ he just doesn’t want her to believe that the program was against her in this way.

 

Still, she looks at him in disbelief before laughing, shaking her head at him. “Come on, Guanlin. I know you don’t like Minhyun either. Why are you defending him?”

 

Guanlin tenses a little, biting his lip. Defending Minhyun? Is that what he’s doing? No way. “I’m just— I think the program is the way it is for a reason. The exercise was probably necessary, and I’m not going to question why it had to happen.”

 

She frowns deeply at his response, obviously dissatisfied with his response. Another sigh escapes before she leans in closely, her face completely serious and ominous.

 

“Listen, Guanlin,” she begins. “I know you’re here because you want to learn how to protect yourself, and maybe that’s why you’re so up Minhyun’s ass, just like everyone else here is. Even though I know you don’t like him. But I think you should really be weary of who you trust around here. Not everyone has good intentions.”

 

Guanlin freezes. Her words sound like a warning, a message of sorts, but from who, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that her words carry a weight, and that weight suddenly makes his chest feel ten times heavier. He doesn’t look away, even as Yeeun stands up, throwing her barely touched food away. She glances at him once more before walking away, exiting the cafeteria without another word.

 

Dread washes over him, and seeking comfort, answers, he glances around the room for something that will help.

 

All he finds is Park Jihoon glaring at him from across the room. His gaze is unwavering as it meets his, and all it does is make an uneasy feeling settle in his heart. Overwhelmed, he stands too, throwing his garbage in the trash and leaving the room, legs feeling like jelly and the thoughts in his head a total nightmare.

 

—

 

Eleven PM. Nighttime. Static white noise is the only sound that fill the small, dimly lit room, illuminated only by the light of several television screens, all of them lined up in rows, with each of them showing different black and white images. Live recordings. Each video feed is silent, but the images projected onto the screens are all realtime. 

 

Minhyun watches each of them, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he leans back comfortably in his chair. This part of his job isn’t fun, but it has to be done. Currently, it’s eleven PM. Most of the students of the Ares Project are sleeping already, tucked comfortably into their beds, blankets tangled about.

 

Most.

 

In the corner of one of the dorms, one of the students sit awake in their bed, their hands making strange movements— back and forth and back and forth. The student faces away from the camera, but Minhyun knows exactly what they’re doing already, and the glint of the reflective surface of a knife only confirms his suspicions.

 

Amused, Minhyun picks up his cellular device that sits idly on the desk in front of him. He enters a phone number then before holding the device to his ear and listening to it right before someone finally answers.

 

“Hello?”

 

Minhyun grins. “Dongho, it’s me. Looks like we’ll be expecting the first attempt soon.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> penny, ser, and nathan keep dangling rabbit dates in front of my face until i finish new chapters for this, so here's chapter 4 orz. it was a hard chapter to write, but i still hope you enjoy, and if you have any questions about the escape room, just ask me~ ^__^
> 
> also, yeeun is probably on of my favorite characters to write?? i'm excited for her i love her so much ahhh
> 
> twitter: https://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> curiouscat: http://curiouscat.me/wannabyui


	5. FIVE.

If there’s one thing Guanlin’s learned about himself, it’s that he’s a pretty fast learner.

 

It’s been only about a week since training at the Ares Project had began, but Guanlin feels as if he’s adapted pretty well for the most part, able to master basic skills, specifically in his own field of firearms. He’s much better at close-range firing he finds, but Daniel reassures him that he’s getting better at long distance as well.

 

Training in hand-to-hand combat and knivery is a whole different story. It’s not that he’s bad, per say, but it’s definitely going to be a while before he can master both techniques properly. Even so, both Seongwoo and Joohyun are kind enough to praise him otherwise, reassuring him that he’s moving at a rapid pace, though he still feels rather behind in comparison to the other students.

 

He shouldn’t compare. Most of these kids have prepared their whole lives for something like this, so of course they’d be skilled already. Though he can’t help but to be a little envious; he wishes he were at that level of mastery already. Even still having much to learn, he’s certain that any one of the other students could still beat him in a fight, were one to occur.

 

That’s why when one-on-one sparring is announced for the day, Guanlin knows he’s absolutely and terribly  _ screwed.  _

 

Most of the other students seem excited. They chatter brightly, taunt each other playfully, and make bets on who will win their rounds. Guanlin, however, stands there awkwardly and nervously, biting his nails as he wonders who his opponent will be. 

 

Perhaps he could beat Seonho in a hand-to-hand battle. Maybe even Hyungseob or Daehwi, he thinks. The other assassins… He’s not so sure. Each of them has a scary look in their eye that makes Guanlin feel uneasy, unwilling to face them.

 

“Settle down, everyone,” Daniel commands, gathering everyone’s attention. He looks rather excited too, as if the thought of pitting his students against one each other is entertaining. Guanlin frowns a little. “I know everyone is excited, but you’ll get your turns eventually. Now, who wants to go first?”

 

It’s silent for a moment. Of course everyone’s eager to fight, but not a soul wishes to volunteer to go first. Daniel looks around disappointedly, and Seongwoo raises his brow. “No one?”

 

“I’ll go first,” someone finally speaks. Guanlin looks around, and out of the crowd of students, Jihoon steps forward. He looks nonchalant and unbothered, but just his mere appearance seems to cause uneasiness for the other students, Guanlin included.

 

“Ah, Park Jihoon,” Joohyun hums in amusement. “This will be quite interesting, hm?”

 

Beside her, Daniel only chuckles in response. “Very well, then, Jihoon. Is there anyone that wishes to spar against Jihoon?”

 

Again, silence envelopes the training room. Students look down, as if wishing to avert Daniel’s eyes, for fear of having him pick on them. Even Woojin turns away, busying himself with the dirt underneath his fingernails.

 

“Guanlin-ah, why don’t you be our first challenger?”

 

Immediately, Guanlin feels his heart stop and his body freeze up. He looks up at Daniel in disbelief, blinking, as if that’ll prove that he’s heard Daniel wrong somehow. But Daniel is absolutely serious, and the way that he smirks at Guanlin makes him want to smack the other square in the face, if he weren’t so wracked with panic all of a sudden.

 

He can’t spar with Park Jihoon. He’s going to get his  _ ass _ beat.

 

“What? No— I can’t do that—!” Guanlin sputters, shaking his head in refusal. 

 

“Why not?” Daniel quirks a brow. “Aren’t you an assassin in this program trained for combat? Aren’t you meant to fight when you’re told?”

 

“Yeah but—!”

 

“Then do it.”

 

“I can’t, I’m not—!”

 

“Guanlin,” another voice breaks in. He turns over to the other person flanking Daniel— Seongwoo looks at him calmly. It reminds him of the night Jihoon had comforted him right before their room had flooded with water. It’s gentle, but also demanding, and Guanlin can’t look away. “Fight.”

 

His demand is simple, nowhere near as complicated and convincing as Daniel’s. But Guanlin suddenly feels compelled. He blinks in uncertainty once before nodding softly, swallowing hard before finally stepping forward, accepting the challenge. “Good boy,” Daniel quips. Guanlin is going to hurl.

 

As he steps forward, the training mat is cleared for all but Guanlin and Jihoon. It’s spacious, has enough space for them to move about during their battle, which Guanlin is grateful for. It simply means he has more room to dodge Jihoon’s attacks as they come. 

 

He’s lead to the furthest corner from Jihoon before they begin, heart already thumping loudly in his chest. As optimistic as he wants to be, wants to tell himself he can do it, there’s absolutely no way he can defeat Park Jihoon, and he’s sure of it. 

 

Maybe he could just talk to Jihoon, distract him so he can’t really tear him to pieces, like Guanlin is certain he will.

 

Maybe it’s not too late to back out. Maybe he can deal with the loss of participation for today, or he can even volunteer to fight the next person in line.

 

But then Joohyun is blowing a whistle from where she stands at the edge of the mat, capturing everyone’s attention. “On my next whistle,” she announces, bringing the small item to her lips once more. Guanlin faces Jihoon and preps, doing his best to mimic the techniques Seongwoo had taught him during his training sessions with the combat trainer.

 

_ Relaxed stance at the beginning,  _ he had said.  _ Bring your hands into position, too. _

 

Guanlin raises his hands then, bracing himself for physical contact that’s to come. Across from him, Jihoon does the exact same, but somehow it looks so much better. Guanlin frowns at the sight.

 

A second ticks by, then two. And then there’s a sound, a whistle blowing and penetrating the air, signaling the beginning of their sparring match. 

 

Neither male charges (thank goodness, Guanlin thinks. He’s not sure how he’d react if Jihoon were to charge towards him). Instead, they circle each other, Jihoon more predatorily, while Guanlin seems more like a scared prey, pleading for his life.

 

“Guanlin, you’re tense and afraid. Relax,” Seongwoo advises, but it’s easier said than done. Jihoon’s gaze chills him to the bone. 

 

Rather than doing as Seongwoo suggests, he smiles awkwardly at Jihoon, at a loss for anything else. “Listen hyung, I just want to thank you for the other night, when you helped calm me down before the flooding happened. It meant a lot to me, and I—”

 

“Stop talking.”

 

Jihoon’s reply is almost inaudible, but Guanlin doesn’t need to hear it in the form of words; it shows through his actions too, as he suddenly swoops in and forward, breaking through what little defenses Guanlin had up in the first place. In a panic, Guanlin swings an arm, but Jihoon easily dodges, sweeping under his arm undetected. In one swift movement, he’s then jabbing at a spot at his side; before Guanlin can even verbally react to that, Jihoon’s slid behind him, a hand curling firmly at the back of his neck before shoving him down harshly to the mat face first. 

 

To ensure his breath, Jihoon flips him then, but before he can retaliate, Jihoon squats down beside his head, aiming a thin but sharp knife at Guanlin’s throat. His breath catches at the sight of the blade, pupils shaking before he looks up at the other assassin.

 

Jihoon’s eyes are cold, as if he hadn’t heard a single thing Guanlin had said earlier. But then he goes on to speak, and his words make Guanlin’s heart feel like it’s sinking deep into his stomach.

 

“I’m not here to be your friend,” he says coldly, blade pushing against Guanlin’s tender skin. “If you’re looking for friendship, then you’ve got the wrong person. I’m not interested in rich pretty boys like you.”

 

Guanlin’s breath stops altogether then, and a sense of defeat and hurt settles throughout his entire being.

 

“Alright, enough!” Joohyun announces finally, he voice firm and booming through the training room. “Stand, both of you. The winner of this match is Park Jihoon. Please return to the sidelines, both of you.”

 

Of course, Jihoon doesn’t back down right away. He maintains this eye contact with Guanlin— some sort of a warning, a confirmation of his words. Guanlin doesn’t know what stings more, hearing the words leave his lips, or the lingering pain from where Jihoon had pressed the knife into his skin. As the smaller assassin walks away, Guanlin stays for a moment, stunned into silence and immobility before he finally brings himself to stand, moving off the mat.

 

He feels so small, and he just wants to disappear. Of course, luck just isn’t on his side today, as he doesn’t notice Seongwoo standing beside him as the next match begins. The trainer pulls him aside then, and Guanlin has to lean over to hear his words, but just like Jihoon’s words, the impact they leave is great.

 

“I don’t know what you think you were doing out there, but you let your guard down. Scratch that, you never had it up in the first place,” he scolds. “If you fight like that, you’re never going to be a good assassin.”

 

Those words hurt more than the sharp tip of Jihoon’s knife for sure.

 

At the trainer’s words, he simply nods in response, joining him once again around the edge of the mat to watch the rest of the sparring matches for the day. The next match is Woojin vs. Yerim, an interesting match for sure, and Guanlin would have loved to pay attention to it. But his mind is elsewhere, body feeling much too small to contain all the crazy thoughts that run through his head. 

 

Does he truly belong in a place like this?

 

— 

 

After his own match, training seems to fly by in the blink of an eye. Some matches are longer than others, but Guanlin doesn’t recall much. Most of his time is simply spent waiting for time to pass. 

 

He’s the first one out the doors as they’re dismissed, the first one to hit the showers and wash up, too. Everything feels so routine that he’s in bed for a nap with plenty of time to spare before dinner.

 

Unfortunately, sleep doesn’t come easy at all, because despite how tired his body is, his mind remains awake. 

 

He hates how easy it had been for Jihoon to distract him and render him defeated within mere seconds of the beginning of their match. Guanlin had really thought he had been improving, but his performance had undoubtedly been pathetic, and Seongwoo show of disappointment only furthered to prove it.

 

Does that mean he’s unfit for this program? Guanlin wants to believe that, no, today’s loss doesn’t mean a thing. Jihoon is perhaps one of the program’s most skilled students, a loss to him with his experience had been expected, not only by him, but the other students as well. 

 

Plus, most other students have been preparing their whole lives to participate in this program. Guanlin’s only hearing of it now, and suddenly being thrust into it certainly doesn’t guarantee his immediate mastery of combat or killing. He had known that before.

 

But perhaps that’s only further reason to believe that he doesn’t belong here with the rest of them.

 

What had bothered him most, however, had been how coldly Jihoon had regarded whatever relationship they had with each other. Guanlin hadn’t expected friendship from the other. He could hardly call them acquaintances either. They’re classmates, roommates even, but nothing more. Still, he felt he at least owed Jihoon a thank you for calming him in a time of need. Jihoon’s reaction however, had been way less than thankful. 

 

He probably shouldn’t have taken his words too seriously, anyways. Not everyone is as bitter as Jihoon. He’s been able to meet Seonho and Shuhua; maybe he can befriend other students as well, prove to him that there’s nothing wrong with making friends in a place like this.

 

Still, his worries are there, each thought bringing him further and further from sleep. So finally, he decides to head out of his dorm, in search of one person who could potentially help him clear his head.

 

To be honest, he gets a little lost on the way to Sungwoon’s office. Having visited only once prior, Guanlin had doubted that he’d need to visit Sungwoon this early into his training. He feels a little ridiculous, actually, but Sungwoon has convinced him that there’s nothing at all wrong with getting the help that he needs, especially with all of the stress in his life.

 

As he arrives, he knocks on Sungwoon’s door, patiently waiting for him to respond. From the other side, a soft “come in,” sounds, and Guanlin opens up, smiling at the counselor as he spots him sitting at his desk.

 

“I’m not coming in at a bad time, am I?” Guanlin asks. 

 

Sungwoon’s eyes brighten as he sees the teen. “Guanlin! No, not at all, it’s nice to see you. Have a seat?”

 

It’s an invitation, not really a request, but Guanlin accepts it, pulling out the chair across from Sungwoon and sitting upon it. He makes himself comfortable as he looks up at the other. 

 

“How’s it going?” Sungwoon asks, tidying up his desk before leaning forward, indicating his interest to whatever Guanlin has to say. “Are you settling into the program well?”

 

Guanlin bites his lip. “Mmmm… It could be better, but… It’s not the worst it could be.”

 

Unsatisfied with his response, Sungwoon frowns a little. “Why, what’s bothering you?”

 

It’s funny, Guanlin thinks, how he had come here to tell Sungwoon about his feelings. But now that he’s actually here in front of him, it feels so difficult to do, to just open up to this stranger that he barely knows, no matter what certifications he has. He purses his lip nervously, looking away from the other.

 

“Hey,” Sungwoon interrupts. “You can talk to me. I’m not here to judge you. Just listen to you, offer you advice if that’s what you need.”

 

Guanlin’s still skeptical. It’s not as easy as Sungwoon makes it sounds, but if he wants things to get better, then perhaps this is a step in the right direction. He can start here, and slowly work his way up.

 

“It’s just..” he begins slowly, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. “I just feel like I don’t belong here.”

 

“Oh?” Sungwoon raises a brow. “Why do you feel that way?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Guanlin shrugs. “Maybe because everyone here already knows what they’re doing and I’m just… struggling? I’m barely learning how to do all of these things and everyone else is already having full-out Street Fighter level battles with each other. What am I here for anyways?”

 

“Ah, I see…” Sungwoon nods. “Daniel tells me you’re learning quickly though? Maybe you’re just thinking too much.”

 

Guanlin stares at him blankly. “I got my ass handed to me today by Park Jihoon.”

 

“Pfft— That doesn’t mean anything. That kid is an assassin on steroids, Guanlin, I wouldn’t stress over a loss to him.”

 

“But still—!” he sighs exasperatedly, throwing his hands up a little. “I don’t understand why I’m here! Isn’t it easier if I just  _ hire  _ someone to protect me, I have the money for it anyways—”

 

“That’s rather selfish of you,” Sungwoon retorts, cutting of Guanlin’s rant. He freezes then, blinking at Sungwoon incredulously.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I mean, yes, theoretically, you could do that,” Sungwoon agrees, leaning back in his seat a little, Guanlin listens carefully, quirking a brow at him. “But you’re here already. You’re fully capable of protecting yourself, and you’ve proven that already through what you’ve already learned. Sure, you still have a ways to go, but why stop now? So you can have someone else protect you instead? What if they lose their lives protecting you?”

 

Somehow, Guanlin feels his blood boil at his words. Is he trying to guilt trip him? He’s not quite sure how therapy works, but he’s certain that his words are far from comfort. He sounds like Minhyun more than anything. 

 

He swallows hard before looking down at his lap again, refusing to look at Sungwoon. Then he shrugs, clicking his tongue. “So what? Isn’t that what rich people do anyways? Aren’t we supposed to be selfish?”

 

This time, it’s Sungwoon’s turn to be confused. “What? Where is this coming from? No one here cares about your status as a businessman’s son, Guanlin.”

 

“Right,” Guanlin huffs, thinking to Jihoon earlier words. “No one.”

 

Across from him, Sungwoon sighs again. It’s obvious that he’s doing his best to keep his composure, calming himself before leaning over the table again. He folds his hands in front of him as he looks at Guanlin, voice gentle as he speaks. “Guanlin, please understand that you really are here for a reason. You might know it yet, but there’s a reason we can’t just  _ hire _ someone to protect you. You need to learn how to protect yourself. I know you can learn to protect yourself, and believe it or not, everyone else here does, too. Even Minhyun. He wouldn’t have put you into this program if he believed you should just hire someone.”

 

Thought he doesn’t look up at Sungwoon, he still listens closely, feeling guilty at his words. Of course, he doesn’t fully comprehend, but perhaps he had been wrong in judging Sungwoon’s intentions. Maybe he is just trying to help, and maybe Guanlin just needs to be more patient in the process.

 

Even so, it feels as if there’s something that he isn’t telling him.

 

He sighs softly, biting his lip. “Is there something I’m missing here?”

 

“Pardon?” Sungwoon asks, raising a brow.

 

“Who is Minhyun to me?” he asks. “Why does he get to decide that I’m suitable for this program alongside all of these other assassins…”

 

“From what I understand, you had a choice in the decision, too,” Sungwoon reminds him.

 

“Yeah, but…” Guanlin trails off then, sinking back into his seat before sighing once again. “I don’t know anymore… Maybe I’m just stressed out. I feel like I’m missing something, and I don’t know if it’s because I don’t remember anything or because things are being hidden from me, but…”

 

An awkward silence befalls the room then. Guanlin stares at the floor, while Sungwoon looks over at the other male, thinking of what he should say. Finally he leans over, letting out a small sigh.

 

“Look, I know this is a lot for you to take in,” he begins, “But you’re doing well. It would be a shame for you to quit now. I know it’s frustrating, but that’s why I’m here. And I’m going to keep reassuring you that you can do this until you believe it yourself, understand?”

 

Guanlin nods softly, and Sungwoon smiles.

 

“Good. As for your amnesia… You’re handling it pretty well, too, I’m assuming?”

 

“I mean, it’s still frustrating,” he replies. “But I’ve been able to keep myself from thinking about it.”

 

The counselor’s smile quickly turns into a frown then. “That’s not good. Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Guanlin shakes his head then. “No.. Not right now. Maybe another time.”

 

“I understand,” Sungwoon nods. “Is there anything else you want to talk about, then?”

 

There’s a lot he wants to talk about, truthfully. But his conversation with Sungwoon has been quite exhausting mentally, that perhaps he can finally bring himself to sleep. He’s gotten quite a bit off of his mind, anyways, sleep shouldn’t be as hard to attain at this point.

 

“No, he finally replies with a soft smile. “I think I’ll be okay for now.”

 

“Alright, I’m glad. Get something to eat, and then head to bed, okay?”

 

“Ah, I’m not really hungry—” 

 

And just then, his stomach rumbles loudly, completely betraying his words.

 

He looks up at Sungwoon, and Sungwoon just laughs, a smirk on his face that makes Guanlin roll his eyes as he stands. “Shut up,” he mutters as he stands finally, pushing out of his chair before tucking it back in.

 

“Have a good night, Guanlin,” Sungwoon wishes.

 

“Thank you,” he hums in reply, giving a soft bow to be polite. “You too.”

 

With that, Guanlin heads out again. He had intended to head back to the dorms, but with his stomach incessantly growling, he decides that maybe it’s best if he takes Sungwoon’s advice and gets a bite to eat before heading to bed. 

 

When he arrives at the cafeteria, mostly everyone is seated at their usual tables. A few students are missing, but Guanlin pays it no mind; they’re probably just off getting rest, much like he wishes to as well.

 

Luckily, Seonho is there. It’s no surprise, of course. Guanlin would be more surprised to find Seonho missing at dinner time more than anything. The other’s tray is stacked high with an array of meats and vegetables, a terrifying amount that makes Guanlin wonder how he could manage to keep so thin despite such a big appetite. He goes to sit with him first before picking up his dinner.

 

“You’re late,” Seonho notes right away, mouth stuffed full with chicken meat that he’s ripped off the bone. 

 

“I tried to go to sleep. But my stomach wasn’t having it.”

 

“Well you better get something to eat before it all gone!” Seonho warns, gesturing to the line of food. Guanlin laughs before shaking his head a little.

 

“I’m sure there will still be plenty when I decide to get up and eat,” he reassures Seonho. 

 

“Not if I get to it first!”

 

Guanlin just rolls his eyes, grateful to have Seonho to cheer him up. 

 

“By the way, everyone is talking about your sparring match with Jihoon.”

 

At that, Guanlin freezes, blinking up at Seonho. “Huh..?”

 

“Yeah!” he continues, like he doesn’t notice Guanlin’s immediate change in demeanor. He probably doesn’t, though, especially not with the food in front of him capturing most of his attention. “It gave everyone a good laugh. I mean, Jihoon’s pretty hard to defeat, but most people at least put up a good fight. You kinda just—  _ flopped.  _ Right away.”

 

And suddenly, Guanlin feels small again. Like his entire conversation with Sungwoon had never happened, like whatever fake confidence he had built up in such a short amount of time had suddenly came crumbling down in a matter of seconds.

 

Everyone had been laughing at him. He was a joke.

 

He looks around then, and sure enough, there are eyes all over him. Even with significantly less students in the room, the gazes shot in his direction have a certain weight to them that makes him feel as if he’s being suffocated. 

 

Suddenly he’s not hungry anymore, and he just wants to go to sleep instead.

 

He gets up then, without another word to Seonho. The younger calls out to him, but Guanlin doesn’t look back, keeps his head down as he makes a beeline out of the cafeteria, straight for his dorm.

 

How could he have been so stupid to make himself believe that he belonged here? He’s an outcast, not meant to become an assassin like the others. Words or encouragement meant nothing, not when he couldn’t live up to them. Sungwoon and the other’s would regret having faith in him.

 

A laughing stock. That’s all he is, and if he stays, he’s certain it’s all he’s ever going to be.

 

Jihoon had been right; he’s nothing but a rich pretty boy, and he doesn’t belong in a place like this. 

 

Guanlin drags his feet across the hallways in defeat, head down and shoulders slumped as he turns towards his dorm, pressing his hand against the keypad to be scanned. The sound it makes as it opens is the only relief he’s had all day— perhaps he could finally rest, forget about everything, even for a short while. Tomorrow, he’d go through the exact same routine.

 

He steps inside then, and the door behind him slides shut. Before he can move an inch however, something whizzes right pass his face, grazing his cheek before it bounces off the steel door behind him. He winces in pain before hunching over a little, hissing as he brings his hands to his cheek.

 

When he pulls away, there’s blood, and when he looks down, there’s a small, thin knife sitting at his feet.

 

Finally, when he looks up, he sees Jinyoung standing there, another knife spinning effortlessly between his fingers as he looks down at Guanlin, eyes cold, and a blank smile upon his thin lips.

 

“Great, you’re back. Lets have some fun now, hm?”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you guessed Jinyoung?
> 
> Also I might be a little slow with the next update; I have a busy week coming up and I'm about to start working a second job, but hopefully I'll have chapter six up as soon as possible! Y'all hate my cliffhangers but this one is probably the worst one yet oof.
> 
> twitter: https://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> curiouscat: https://curiouscat.me/wannabyui


	6. SIX.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you ready for some jinyoung backstory.

Jinyoung wants to be a doctor when he grows up.

 

When he’s six years old, he watches a news report about a doctor who had miraculously managed to resuscitate a victim of fatal car accident. The victim should have died that day, but due to the doctor’s hard work, they had survived. He had been left in awe at the story, and from that point on, he had been certain that he too would one day become a doctor that would save many, many lives.

 

But when Jinyoung is seven, he discovers that rather than saving lives, he’ll be taking them instead.

 

Jinyoung’s father does come home very often. Most days, it’s just him and his mother, and he’s quite content with that. His mother is kind, and she takes care of him well. She makes him delicious food, buys him toys and plays pretend with him. Most days, she pretends to be a patient, and Jinyoung operates on her with the toy sets that she’s got for him. It may be just the two of them, but Jinyoung is happy.

 

Of course, that doesn’t mean he isn’t curious as to where his father goes off to all the time. He goes away for days, only coming home to sleep for a few hours before disappearing once more. Jinyoung’s tried to stay awake and catch him when he arrives, but he’s never been able to, a sense of loss dawning upon him when he wakes and realizes that his father, once again, is not there.

 

But his mother fills the void. She makes him forget about a father that is never there, never even bothers to say his goodbyes to his son before he departs from his reach once more.

 

Then, one night, his father comes home unexpectedly. Jinyoung is awake then, watching the last of his cartoons before bedtime rolls around. The front door slams open, making him jump in shock.

 

For a moment, he looks over at him, and Jinyoung thinks that he looks angry for some reason that he isn’t quite sure of. His mother rushes from the kitchen, likely summoned by the commotion that follows his entrance. Their eyes meet, and immediately, Jinyoung senses the tension between them.

 

Finally, his father speaks. “I need to take him.”

 

The atmosphere suddenly feels ten times deeper, and Jinyoung feels as if he’s trapped in between all of this, despite not knowing what’s going on. He looks between the two of them, before his mother finally shakes her head. “I won’t let you.”

 

His father sighs. “You knew this would happen one day.”

 

In response, his mother shakes her head again; she looks as if she’s about to cry, and Jinyoung wants to go to her, comfort her, smack his father for making her cry,  _ something,  _ but he feels frozen to the spot, the sound of the television drowning out behind him.

 

“He’s our  _ son,”  _ his mother speaks in a broken voice. “How could you even be okay with this..? You know he wants to become a doctor, right? It would break his heart if he knew what you wanted from him—”

 

“Stop talking,” he demands in a booming voice, and Jinyoung cowers in fear. “This is not your choice anymore.”

 

It’s then that the front door opens, and in walk several men, all of them dressed in sleek black outfits, similar to what his father wears. Jinyoung’s eyes widen, and panic filling his chest as two walk straight towards him. 

 

He attempts to crawl away. “Mommy—…”

 

Of course, it’s no use. Two men grab him then, making him stand, and his mother’s bloodcurdling scream suddenly echoes throughout the room.

 

“Get your hands off of him—!”

 

Two more men restrain his mother as she cries out for him, his name leaving her lips more times than Jinyoung can count. Tears fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks, and Jinyoung watches her in fear, his own tears falling from his eyes in his uncertainty and worry.

 

“Lets go,” one of the men order him. “Your mommy won’t be hurt as long as you come with us.”

 

Jinyoung doesn’t want to go with them. He doesn’t trust them with his mother, doesn’t believe that she’s going to be safe just because they say so. He wants to be by her side, wants these men to go away. Especially his father, the one who he’s certain has caused all of this.

 

Still, paralyzed with fear and worry, his legs move forward as he’s guided, eyes never leaving his mother’s distressed form as he’s led out the door. She cries desperately for him, and Jinyoung feels his heart breaking as he calls back for her through the tears running down his face.

 

“Let’s go,” his father announces, and follows them out the door.

 

_ “Jinyoung!”  _ his mother cries one last time before the door closes behind them.

 

What Jinyoung remembers next is being led to a car and sat in the back seat— he cries the whole time, partly because he’s never traveled without his booster seat before, and partly because he doesn’t understand where these strange men are taking him, why his father is doing this, and out of outright concern for his mother’s well being.

 

He wants to ask questions, but the tears don’t stop for a single second. Only when he finally falls asleep from his exhaustion do they dry up on his cheeks, nightmares of his mother calling his name in agony terrorizing his sleep. 

 

-

 

When he wakes again, Jinyoung is lying in a bed that he’s certain is not his. It’s a lot less comfortable, and when he looks around, he finds that he’s in a very unfamiliar place, with steel walls surrounding him, light furniture decorating the place. The room is cold and dark, and he feels fear settle in as he sits up and curls up into a ball at the very corner of his bed.

 

The door creaks open then. Light seeps into the room, bright and blinding. Jinyoung has to squint and shade his eyes before he can even attempt to make out a face, but even then, he doesn’t recognize the man before him.

 

“W-who are you?” Jinyoung asks, voice trembling in fear.

 

The man just smiles at him before pulling up a chair, setting it beside Jinyoung’s bed and taking a seat. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises in a gentle voice. Even so, Jinyoung doesn’t think he should trust him. His sleek eyes and kind smile seem all too fake. “What’s your name?”

 

Jinyoung squeezes his knees to his chest, refusing to speak. Upon the realization that he doesn’t intend to respond, the man just chuckles softly, the sound sending chills down Jinyoung’s spine. “Maybe I should introduce myself first. My name is Yoomyung. I’m your father’s boss.”

 

At his words, Jinyoung looks up a little, acknowledging him, but still makes no attempts to speak. The older man just looks at him, still smiling in an unsettling way. “I know you must be wondering what you’re doing here. Believe me when I tell you that you’ll be safe here, and that no one will hurt you. For now, you should just rest. In the morning, I promise that you’ll know exactly what’s going on, okay? Does that sound fair?”

 

_ No,  _ Jinyoung wants to say, but he also refuses to speak, only looking up at the man with dark eyes, peering over his knees. Again, the man just chuckles before reaching out and ruffling Jinyoung’s hair. Jinyoung winces a little in pain.

 

“And if you behave, I promise that you’ll be able to see your mother again.”

 

Jinyoung freezes then before perking up, blinking at Yoomyung in shock.

 

With that, the man leaves, leaving Jinyoung in the dark once more, with more and more questions surfacing his thoughts. Where is his father? And his mother truly okay? What are these people planning to do with him?

 

Rest doesn’t come at all that night for the young boy.

 

—

 

An assassin.

 

That’s why Jinyoung is here. To become an assassin.

 

The word assassin isn’t even in his vocabulary prior to Yoomyung approaching him once more in the morning and telling him what it is.

 

Assassin: a killer.

 

But Jinyoung doesn’t want to be a killer. He wants to save lives, not end them, wants to stop the bleeding, and not be the cause of it. 

 

This place trains young children in the basics of weapons and combat in the hopes that they’ll be prepared for a later program meant to verify their status as an assassin, and Jinyoung has been one of the lucky few chosen to become one. 

 

Now he’s beginning to understand why his father is never home, why it always felt as if he had been hiding something from him. Still, Jinyoung would’ve never imagined this. 

 

At first, Jinyoung refuses to train. While other young students around his age participate in classes, he decides to sit them out, curled up in the corner until it’s over, and he can go to bed for the night. He can sense the disdain that his stubbornness brings to his trainers, but Jinyoung could care less. He does not want to be here, and he does not care if everyone knows it.

 

His father visits him frequently. Jinyoung swears he’s never seen him more in his life than he has in the few weeks that he’s been here. Often, he’s furious, questioning why Jinyoung refuses to participate in class. Jinyoung never responds, only looks away as he lies in bed, staring blankly at the wall until his father leaves in his rage.

 

He can get used to this, he thinks. Being unresponsive, keeping quiet. Maybe they’ll just let him go when he realizes how reluctant he is to join.

 

But then it happens.

 

Like always, he’s staring at the wall as he lies in bed, waiting for sleep to settle in when the door open, light creeping in. He doesn’t bother turning to see who it is, however. It’s probably Yoomyung again, or his father, coming back to about at him in vain. 

 

“Go away,” he huffs quietly, bringing his blankets tighter around him.

 

“Jinyoung.”

 

He freezes then. This voice is not his father, nor is it Yoomyung. It’s feminine, warm, and familiar.

 

He turns then, and the sight that befalls him makes his heart tremble with thousands of emotions.

 

_ “Mom!” _

 

Jinyoung rushes forward then, launching himself into his mother’s arms. She kneels to the ground to match his height as she tearfully hugs him close, as if she has no intentions to ever let go.

 

Jinyoung sobs, crying into her shoulder. Is this real? Can this really be happening right now? He squeezes her tighter— “I missed you.”

 

His mother sobs softly, rubbing his back comfortingly. “I missed you too, baby.”

 

“I’m scared,” he mumbles, scrunching the back of her shirt.

 

“I know you are, but you have to listen to mommy, okay?”

 

Just then, she pulls away, and Jinyoung wipes his tears away before looking at her closely. She’s just as pretty as he remembers, but he wants to wipe her tears away. The smile on her face is somewhat sad, he thinks, as she holds his shoulders, as if forcing him to listen to what she has to say. He nods then, watching her as she speaks.

 

“I want you to do everything daddy says, okay?”

 

Jinyoung blinks in shock. “What?”

 

“I know you’re confused, and that you don’t want to do this, but please, mommy is begging you. Daddy promised me that if you pay attention in class, then I can see you once a week,” she explains, smiling at him. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

It does, he thinks, but it’s definitely not what he wants. “Why can’t I just go home…?”

 

His mother frowns a little then before stroking the child’s cheek, wiping his tears away from him. “I’m so sorry, baby, but you can’t right now… This is the only way that mommy can come visit you for now… Okay? Can you do that for me? Can you promise that you’ll do what daddy asks you to do?”

 

Jinyoung looks at her hesitantly. He wants to say no. Tell her that he doesn’t want to become an assassin, that he doesn’t want to fight. But then what would happen? Would he just rot here if he refuses to participate? Would he ever see his mother again? The stakes are too high, and Jinyoung doesn’t have a clue what lows his father is willing to stoop to. So, with fresh tears welling in his eyes, Jinyoung nods, agreeing to her terms.

 

“Thank you, my son…” she says gratefully before pulling him close again, rubbing his back as she coddles him, comforts him as his tears begin to flow. “Mommy loves you so much…”

 

He lets himself cry like that for the rest of the night, holding his mother tight for as long as time will allow. Eventually, however, sleep befalls him, and he’s lied to rest, blankets tucked neatly over him as his exhaustion finally brings his tears to end.

 

When he wakes in the morning, his mother is no longer there.

 

From that point forward, Jinyoung decides that he’ll keep his promise to his mother and obey his father’s demands, just so he can see her for that short period of time, once a week. Training begins immediately, and it’s tough, especially because he has lots to catch up on.

 

One consolation, however, is that his peers are kind enough to help, patiently assisting him until he’s caught up. He makes friends with some of them too; one of them gives him a cute otter plushie that Jinyoung holds tightly to his chest every night as he sleeps— comfort for nights when he feels especially alone.

 

He learns then that he has an affinity for knives. They’re small and dangerous, but quick and elegant as well. As he watches his first demonstration, he decides immediately that it’s what he wishes to wield. On his tenth birthday, he receives a new set of knives from his father, the only gift he’s ever gotten from him.

 

Jinyoung gives them to someone else. His father won’t notice anyway.

 

And just as promised, his mother is allowed to visit him once a week, at the very end of all of his training. She comes at night, usually on the weekend, and she always brings a homemade meal for him to enjoy. Each meal brings tears to his eyes, makes him realize just how much he misses home.

 

Like his father, his mother also buys him knives (“I heard you’re quite skilled with them, hm?”), but unlike his father’s set, he keeps this one, keeping them safe and out of sight, refusing to use them for training lest they somehow get lost. 

 

It’s always a short time, but it’s a memorable time, a time that Jinyoung cherishes, no matter what. Each time, he’s left looking forward to the next week, works hard in his classes to make the wait worth the while.

 

And then, when Jinyoung turns sixteen, his mother stops coming.

 

Graduation from the program is in only a few weeks. After spending over nine whole years in the facility, Jinyoung has transformed himself into a killer— one without remorse and with the best knife skills that the program has seen in years. He also takes three lives— they had promised that he would not be taking any during his duration at the program, but they had lied. Perhaps it had been his father’s status and recommendation that had him on the assignment in the first place, but each kill leaves him feeling guiltier and guiltier, takes a toll on him and his mental state. Sixteen year old boys should t have to be killers, he thinks.

 

After his third kill, Jinyoung  _ desperately  _ wishes for his mother’s presence. He’s meant to see her, and she’s meant to visit that night, yet she never comes. Her absence is worrying, but Jinyoung just figures that maybe she’s forgot, maybe she’ll come the next night instead.

 

But she doesn’t come the next night, or the night after that. 

 

It’s three days later that his father finally comes to his room. Jinyoung hasn’t seen him in weeks, and when he arrives, the solemn look on his parent’s face makes him forget all about the hatred he has for his father. He wordlessly follows his father out of the facility, and as they drive away, he watches out the window, anxiously awaiting their destination.

 

As a hospital comes into view, Jinyoung’s heart immediately sinks, and he prays that the thoughts that suddenly plague him are nothing more than thoughts, that they aren’t here for what he thinks they’re here for.

 

But of course, as they’re led into the hospital and up to one of the rooms, Jinyoung begins to lose hope. When he enters, he finds his mother lying there in bed, fast asleep, and with a multitude of tubes sticking out of her arms, a oxygen mask covering her face.

 

Jinyoung breaks down at the sight.

 

Cancer, the doctor tells them, and Jinyoung is devastated. Beside him, however, he wonders if his father even cares at all. If he’s ever cared, of things could’ve been different if he had just been a proper husband and father to his son… He despises his father, and when the man attempts to comfort him, Jinyoung runs away, hiding from him until he’s eventually found, and it’s time for them to return to the facility once again.

 

He’s silent the entire drive home. When they’re back, Jinyoung cries himself to sleep, hugging the soft otter plushie tightly to his chest.

 

After that, Jinyoung becomes the one that goes to visit his mother every week after his training ends. His father accompanies him, which is isn’t ideal, but Jinyoung tries to ignore him for the most part. He’d rather bear with his presence rather than not see his mother at all. And before Jinyoung leaves every night, his mother never fails to tell him how much she loves him, how proud she is of everything he’s accomplished. Jinyoung doesn’t know how to tell her that he’s not proud of anything that he’s done.

 

Hospital bills are expensive, and with how often his mother goes into surgery or chemotherapy, Jinyoung has no idea how they’re able to afford it. He figures that his father is the one paying them off, and while he’s grateful, he also feels that it’s the least he can do for how horribly he’s treated his family in the past sixteen years of his life.

 

And then, when he’s just about to turn eighteen, his father passes away.

 

It hurts a little more than Jinyoung had been expecting; even though his father has treated him horribly, Jinyoung can’t deny that there’s still sadness in knowing that he’ll never see the man ever again. But he also feels relief— his father had always been a looming presence, someone that he had felt the need to please all throughout his life. Perhaps his demise is a good thing, Jinyoung thinks.

 

But then the hospital bills start piling up, and with no one to pay for them, Jinyoung starts to worry again. What will happen if the bills aren’t paid? Would the hospital kick his mother out, refuse to help her? Her condition is only worsening, and Jinyoung can’t bear to say goodbyes just yet… 

 

Then he joins the Ares Project, the program that his training as a youth had led him into. All certified assassins were expected to graduate from the program. Hwang Minhyun steps in next, and his proposition is simple: kill Lai Guanlin, and any wish that you have will be granted. 

 

Lai Guanlin looks weak, Jinyoung thinks, looks like he can be pushed over with just a single touch of a finger. To top it off, he doesn’t even know how to fight; he’s nothing more than just some spoiled rich kid, and killing him would be a piece of cake. 

 

But there’s so many other likely candidates. Park Jihoon, infamous for his numerous kills and clean execution could easily end Guanlin’s life too, but he seems somewhat disinterested. Jang Yeeun is quite a skilled combatant as well; though she has no kills, Jinyoung knows just how deadly and dangerous she can be.

 

And that’s why Jinyoung has to be first. He has to make his attempt before anyone else can, so he can get the money to pay for his mother’s hospital bills. He doesn’t care how much longer she has to live, Jinyoung refuses to disappoint her; he’s going to take care of her, just as she had taken care of him all of his life. 

 

So he plots out his assassination, sharpens his knives in the dead of night. He’s gets lucky because Guanlin is assigned to be his roommate, too.

 

Jinyoung decides then and there that he’s going to kill Lai Guanlin, no matter what. 

 

—

 

Guanlin grunts in pain as his back crashes harshly against the edge of the desk.

 

He has no time to recover, however, because Jinyoung immediately attacks again, swiping a knife in his direction and aiming dangerously close to his heart. Guanlin dodges quickly, rolling away before standing on his feet again.

 

He has no idea what’s going on. Is this for real? Is Jinyoung really attacking him? Something’s wrong, and Guanlin is left baffled at the situation at hand. Jinyoung stabs at him again with the same knife, but Guanlin’s able to catch his wrist before the tip can touch his skin. He struggles to hold him back, the older much stronger than he had anticipated.

 

“Jinyoung, what the fuck—!” Guanlin yells, shoving him off of him. He tries to make a run for it then, stumbling towards the door, but Jinyoung reaches out and firmly grasps the back of his shirt, tugging him backwards. Guanlin yelps in surprise as he helplessly falls to the floor, with Jinyoung straddling his waist and pinning him down.

 

He reaches for his wrists again, the glint of his knife threatening to take his life away from him. Fear and adrenaline pump through his blood as he tries to wrestle the knife out of the other’s hand, weak grunts escaping as he shoves him helplessly away.

 

“Stop!” Guanlin huffs, but Jinyoung is too strong, easily breaking from the younger’s grip. With him finally freed, Guanlin is almost certain that this is the end. Still, he can’t wrap his head around why Jinyoung is doing this— it has to be violation of some kind of rule in the program, right? Don’t kill your fellow students? Something like that? Either way, Jinyoung means business, and as he raises his knife, Guanlin holds in a deep breath, bearing himself for the pain that’s certain to befall him.

 

But it never comes; instead, Jinyoung chokes, and Guanlin looks up at him in surprise. His knife clatters to the ground as his hands fly to his neck, eyes bulging out in shock. Guanlin can faintly make out a thin wire wrapped around his neck, and as quickly as it had appeared, it disappears too, retracting and leaving Jinyoung desperately sputtering for air.

 

Before he can recover, however, he’s shoved aside, off of Guanlin and sent tumbling to the floor beside him by someone else. Guanlin looks up curiously to see who it is that’s saved him, and when he sees soft tufts of brown hair, his eyes widen.

 

Jihoon. 

 

The oldest of the roommates wrestles Jinyoung to the ground, but the struggle that he gives is great. He picks up his knife from the floor before swiping it in Jihoon’s direction— the other yelps in pain before grasping at his cheek. Jinyoung takes the opportunity then to stab him in the shoulder, and Jihoon cries out, hunching over as the knife is harshly yanked free.

 

“What are you doing?” Jinyoung grunts at him, still trying to wrestle him free, but Jihoon stands his ground, pushing his arms down despite the blood that trickles down his arm. Guanlin can only stare in astonishment at the battle before him.

 

It’s then that Jihoon turns to him, a pained look upon his face. Still, his voice is strong and demanding as he yells out to him, “Get out of here!”

 

His words and tone startle Guanlin, but he immediately scrambled to his feet then, unlocking the door and helplessly stumbling out.

 

He runs then, runs as fast as his legs will take him. He doesn’t even know  _ where  _ he’s running anymore, as every hallway suddenly starts to look the same. 

 

Jinyoung had tried to kill him, and Guanlin has absolutely no idea why. 

 

He keeps running, and at this point, he doesn’t even know where he is anymore. He just wants to get away, somewhere Jinyoung won’t find him, where  _ no one  _ will find him—

 

And then, he runs smack into someone else, the force of the collision nearly sending him crashing onto the floor. The other person reaches out and catches him however, just barely keeping him up on his feet.

 

“Woah woah woah! Guanlin? Why are you running…?”

 

Seongwoo. He looks up, eyes locking with the other’s before he swallows hard, throat dry as he chokes out wildly. “J-Jinyoung! He tried to kill me, and I don’t know why? I don’t understand, what—..?”

 

The combat trainer looks at him incredulously, eyes scanning his entire face before a sudden look of realization strikes him. As he holds Guanlin’s shoulders, he suddenly straightens, blinking at the other. “Guanlin… You mean you don’t know?”

 

Guanlin’s breathes. “What? Know what? What the hell is going on?”

 

Seongwoo looks at him solemnly then before his hands drop to his side, and Guanlin finds himself dreading his words. His eyes never leave him however, as he suddenly speaks, “Guanlin, the other students have been given incentive to kill you. They all want you dead.”

 

Dumbfounded, Guanlin staggers back a little, appalled at Seongwoo’s words. He shakes his head, as distress starts to settle in, because,  _ no,  _ that can’t be true… There’s no way that he’s truly surrounded by a handful of skilled assassins, every single one of them wanting to take his life. It’s impossible, he thinks.

 

But Seongwoo just keeps staring at him, like he feels sorry for him somehow. But if he’s known all this time, then why hadn’t he told him? Why hadn’t  _ anyone  _ told him?

 

He swallows hard, a wave of nausea washing over him then. Suddenly, his vision goes blurry, and his legs feel like jelly beneath him.  _ This can’t be happening,  _ he thinks, as his eyes start to flutter shut, lashes brushing against his bloodstained cheeks.

 

Black paints his vision just before his body thuds to the ground.

 

—

 

“Well, this is certainly unexpected.” 

 

Minhyun leans back comfortably in his seat, watching the large monitor that sits before him. Behind him, another man stands and watches as well, but his expression remains neutral, except for a small quirk of his brow, raised in curiosity.

 

Displayed on the monitor before them, he watches as a struggle between two young men finally ends, one of them lying lifelessly on the ground before him, his thin body sustaining several injuries. He’s still alive, however; the slight rise and fall of his chest indicates it well, but he has been defeated. 

 

The other male hovers over him, standing over his body with his chest heaving as he catches his breath. Blood leaks down his shoulder, but he seems almost unbothered by the fact. 

 

Minhyun sighs a little, sitting up. “It’s a shame… I really liked Jinyoung.”

 

“Is it really unexpected, though?” the man behind him inquires. 

 

“Hm?” Minhyun blinks at him, turning to face him. “What do you mean, Dongho?”

 

“What I mean is that was this really unexpected of Jihoon? You planned it to be this way, didn’t you?”

 

Minhyun purses his lips then before turning to the screen once more. Jihoon is heaving Jinyoung onto his back now, carrying him and leading him out of the room. His smile returns then before he finally shrugs, turning to Dongho once more.

 

“Let the games begin, hm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I WAS ABLE TO FINISH THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> I start a second job tomorrow. Please wish me luck TT 
> 
> come talk to me!
> 
> twitter: https://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> curiouscat: http://curiouscat.me/wannabyui


	7. SEVEN.

When Guanlin wakes, there’s a horrible ache in his head, as well as a pain in his neck due to the less than comfortable pillow that supports his neck. A groan escapes before he opens his eyes, is met with unblemished white walls once again, and not the thick, steel-plated walls he’s gotten used to.

 

The infirmary. He’s here once again.

 

Though his head hurts, Guanlin does his best to recall what exactly has brought him here. Last he remembers is the fight with Jihoon; the therapy session with Sungwoon, going back to his room, and—  _ oh.  _

 

Bae Jinyoung trying to kill him.

 

Immediately, his hand floats to his cheek. Sure, the rest of his body has suffered some minor injuries, bruises at most. But he remembers the slice of the knife against his cheek all too well, the first knife Jinyoung had thrown in his perfectly planned attempt at murder. 

 

He would have been successful too, if it hadn’t been for Jihoon. Hesitantly, Guanlin touches the cut; it’s covered with a thick bandage, but he figures that it couldn’t have been too serious. 

 

Already, he wants to drift back into unconsciousness. His thoughts are already too loud to handle, and perhaps sleep would be a better option that to have to deal with reality. He still doesn’t get why Jinyoung had tried to kill him, why Jihoon had saved him… Nothing adds up.

 

“You’re awake!” A voice chirps in beside him, the person obviously quite delighted to see him alive. He peeks over, and Jisung is sitting at his computer with a bright smile on his face. 

 

“Jisung-hyung…” he murmurs, still quite groggy with sleep.

 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, moving to Guanlin’s bedside. “You fainted and Seongwoo brought you here. Other than the cut on your cheek, you don’t seem to be sustaining other major injuries…”

 

Guanlin purses his lips, sitting up a in his bed. It’s just as uncomfortable as he remembers. “I’m okay…” he replies. “I just… I’m confused, that’s all.”

 

Jisung blinks knowingly, but he looks down anyways, averting Guanlin’s gaze. “About what?” he asks.

 

“You knew, too, didn’t you…” Guanlin mutters, staring down at the sheets. He plays with the blankets between his fingers, pouting childishly.

 

“I did…” Jisung replies shamefully. “Everyone knew. Seongwoo was only allowed to tell you because the first attempt had been made.”

 

Guanlin’s heart sinks in his chest. It’s scary, to be hunted like this. To not know who he could trust, would befriend him one moment only to try and take his life the next. Even someone like Seonho could try something, and the thought of that makes anxiety swell in heart, disappointment and sadness too.

 

Perhaps the worst part is the fact that he ever had the idea that he could potentially make friends in a place like this. He understands now, why Jihoon had been so reluctant to befriend him in the beginning. To make friends had been a foolish idea, and Guanlin has been foolish to even try— especially when any of his so-called friends could make an attempt at his life at any moment. The thought is heartbreaking, and Guanlin feels ridiculous for ever having believed that something as trivial as  _ friendship  _ was something worth searching for in a place like this.

 

He has so many questions. Things he wants to ask, emotions he wants to release. But Jisung is not the person to get frustrated at; nor does he think he has all of the answers he desires, either.

 

Besides, Guanlin just feels numb. There’s an ache in his heart that won’t go away, especially as realization finally begins to hit him. If he had felt alone before, the feeling has only intensified. And just what is he supposed to do now, sit around and wait for someone to kill him? If he leaves now, he’s only left even more vulnerable, left prey to even more capable assassins that could potentially want his life. Every part of this is fucked up, he thinks, and he wishes that he had never found himself in this stupid project in the first place.

 

“Listen,” Jisung says beside him. Guanlin gives him his attention. “I know you have a lot on your mind, but for now, I advise you to go about your daily activities here as if nothing had happened last night.”

 

Guanlin scoffs. “That’s so much easier said than done. Am I just supposed to hang around and pretend like not everyone here wants to kill me?”

 

“You’ll be safe for now,” Jisung reassures. “I doubt someone will make another attempt so soon. And besides. I hear you’ve got a little guardian angel, too.”

 

And then, Guanlin tenses, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. He looks to Jisung questioningly, and the doctor just smiles at him. “Jihoon was here earlier, too. He took more damage than you, a stab wound to his shoulder. He bled out a lot, but he’ll be fine.”

 

“How do you know he protected me?” Guanlin asks.

 

“Secret,” Jisung winks. “Now, get some rest. It’s late, and you’ve still got training early tomorrow morning. You can stay here for the night, okay?”

 

Guanlin wants to resist. He hates this stupid infirmary wing with its stupid white walls and disgustingly clean scent. But he hates this stupid program even more; Guanlin has no clue what the future holds, but for right now, it seems bleak and violent, nothing short of catastrophe waiting to happen.

 

He could leave now. Quit, never come back to this place ever again. If he stays, his death is almost certain, and the idea is more frightening than a random assassination attempt outside of these walls. At least he won’t see it coming.

 

But something tells him to stay. That he shouldn’t give up, not when he’s already come this far. 

 

A tired yawn escapes before he finally nods at the doctor beside him. “Alright,” he hums, closing his eyes and turning on to his side. “Good night, Jisung.”

 

Jisung smiles before gently patting his hip. “Good night, kid.”

 

Guanlin listens as Jisung leaves. His steps are soft, and small sliver of light filters in through the door before it becomes pitchblack once more. The teen’s thoughts race at a million miles an hour, but eventually, he’s finds himself in a dreamless, and very much needed sleep.

 

—

 

“Unfortunately, your fellow student Bae Jinyoung will no longer be joining us for training.”

 

The announcement comes at the very beginning of training, and it catches the attention of all of the students, including Guanlin, who had arrived just in time for the morning’s classes. As promised, they’re short one person, and a quick look around guarantees that the baby-faced assassin that had attacked him last night is indeed not present.

 

However, Guanlin feels as if the prying eyes around the room are not searching for the absent student, but rather, they’re all focused on him, as if he’s connected to Jinyoung’s removal from the program (which he probably his, but Guanlin doesn’t really know). Or maybe they’re all just plotting his demise. He can’t really be certain.

 

He looks down then, ignoring their eyes. It helps calm his nerves just a little, helps him to focus on the words that Joohyun speaks rather than his inevitable and impending doom.

 

“Today, we’ll do more sparring,” she announces, looking over each of her students. “We’ll partner you up differently today, so you can get a feel for different techniques and strategies that one might use in a physical altercation. Other than that, it’ll be ran exactly the same as yesterday. Any questions?”

 

It’s quiet, and Joohyun takes the silence as a sign to continue. “Perfect. First match of the day: Park Jihoon and Im Youngmin.”

 

Immediately, every pair of eyes fly to Youngmin, including Guanlin’s. He’s gotten acquainted with him quite well, especially since both of them are of the House of Deimos. Youngmin’s helped him with his aim, as well as his form when shooting his gun. But outside of that, he hasn’t gotten to speak to him much, and he certainly hasn’t gotten a chance to assess his skill outside of guns and firearms. Not to mention that Park Jihoon, as he has gotten to know, is one formidable opponent.

 

But Jihoon doesn’t look too good. The other male looks tired, and aside from that, he has a thick, bandage wrapped around his shoulder, peeking out from the short sleeved shirt he’s wearing. Guanlin knows that it patches up the knife wound, and he wonders just how much it could hinder his performance.

 

As Youngmin and Jihoon take the mat, the other students clear out, leaving ample space for their battle to begin. Guanlin looks to Seongwoo beside him, whistle in his mouth, ready to begin the fight. He thinks about how just last night, he had been the one to alert him of the danger he’s in. Now he’s just standing beside him, as if nothing had ever happened. Guanlin wishes it were that easy for him, too.

 

Seongwoo counts down with his fingers, then blows the whistle. The match immediately begins.

 

Unlike Guanlin’s slow and hesitant approach, Youngmin attacks immediately following the whistle, snarling as he makes a run towards Jihoon’s smaller, vulnerable frame. The suddenness takes Guanlin by surprise, and he watches closely out of curiosity, eager to see just how Jihoon will respond.

 

Youngmin throws a punch then. It’s solid, firm and quick, but Jihoon is faster, and he easy dodges it, ducking out of the way, and leaving Youngmin to attack nothing but the air he’s left behind. 

 

But Youngmin recovers quickly, too. As Jihoon sneaks behind him, he swivels his body, a roundhouse kick slicing through the air and brought down towards Jihoon. The kick makes contact with his injured shoulder, and Jihoon let’s out a loud scream, is brought to his knees with the force of the attack.

 

Guanlin’s breath catches at the scene, and his heart drops into his stomach. The other students gasp too, and as Jihoon’s once clean and tidy bandages start to soak red, Guanlin begins to worry. His wound has been opened. Guanlin turns to Seongwoo then, breath shaky as he speaks. “Shouldn’t we…?”

 

“It’s not over yet,” Seongwoo silences him, seemingly unbothered by the sight in front of him. And it’s not just him; neither Daniel or Joohyun seem to have been disturbed by the sudden abundance of blood that soaks through Jihoon’s bandages, or the look of pain that crosses his features. A dirty trick, Guanlin thinks, to attack Jihoon where he’s handicapped, and yet, no one seems to care but him. He wants to say something, but he bites his tongue instead, eyes trained on the two sparring males. Youngmin looks ready to end the match too, lifting up his foot, as if preparing to kick Jihoon down to the ground.

 

But perhaps he’s celebrated just a little too early. Just as Youngmin’s foot is meant to make contact with his chest, Jihoon stops it, pushing against it with the palms of his hands. The mere force of the kick is strong, sends Jihoon staggering backwards a little, but he’s still able to manipulate Youngmin, hands sliding up to his calf before giving a tug that makes him lose his balance. 

 

Youngmin yelps, before his frame is being sent toppling to the ground. He lands with a thud on his back, and in no time at all, Jihoon has him pinned, aiming a knife at his throat again as he straddles his waist and presses a shoulder down, in a similar fashion to how he had defeated Guanlin yesterday.

 

A whistle sounds. Jihoon is declared the winner. 

 

Guanlin blinks in shock. He had been sure that this was a match that Jihoon would lose, especially with his handicap. But it’s clear to him now that he has horribly underestimated Jihoon. Injury or no injury, it seems that the other boy is determined to always come out on top.

 

His pulse quickens as he observes Jihoon— dominant, victorious, triumphant.

 

Even so, the blood soaking his bandage cannot be ignored. He collapses beside Youngmin the moment the whistle blows, a pained look crossing his features as he grips at the affected shoulder. Hyungseob is the one that takes his side first, helping him to sit up straight, to stand up on his feet, too. Donghyun helps Youngmin up, and both look on as Hyungseob slings Jihoon’s good arm around his shoulder.

 

“Hyungseob, take him to see the doctor again,” Daniel sighs. “Make sure he stays there for a while, and don’t let him convince Jisung to let him leave early, either.”

 

Jihoon makes a face at Daniel before Hyungseob hauls him off, and Guanlin watches him leave, feeling guilt creep into his chest.

 

If Jihoon hadn’t protected him last night, then he wouldn’t be bleeding out like this. He would be perfectly healthy, would have easily defeated Youngmin without lifting a finger. He watches as the door closes behind the pair, and even when the doors are shut, he stares on, unable to look away, until—

 

“Guanlin, are you paying attention?”

 

The young teen blinks then as Joohyun’s sharp voice cracks through his thoughts like a whip. He shakes his head clear before nodding attenticely. “Uh, yes ma’am!”

 

“Good,” she replies. “Because you’re up next. You’ll be facing Park Woojin today.”

 

_ Ah,  _ Guanlin thinks.  _ Great. _

 

Like Youngmin, Guanlin doesn’t know much about Woojin’s fighting style, except for the fact that, like Jihoon, hand-to-hand combat is his specialty. What an unfair advantage. Guanlin is certain that he’s screwed once again. 

 

He steps forward on the mat then, just as Woojin does the same. Nervously, he surveys the other; Woojin doesn’t even seem phased by him. Perhaps he thinks this is going to be just another easy win for him. But this time, Guanlin refuses to go down without a fight. 

 

As Seongwoo begins to count down, Guanlin gets into a ready stance, and when the whistle blows, he springs into action.

 

As expected, Woojin is fast, but not as fast as Jihoon; Jihoon had certainly been faster, Guanlin analyzes. His punches are more accurate, however, but Guanlin is able to block and dodge them as they come, keeping Woojin’s fists away from his face, away from leaving damaging blows against his thin body. 

 

When Woojin  _ does  _ land a punch, however, pain shakes his entire being, and he’s almost stunned with the force. Determined not to give up so easily, he perseveres, still dodging Woojin’s attacks as a flurry of punches and kicks are sent flying in his direction.

 

Guanlin is certain he’ll tire himself out eventually.

 

He waits then, continues to use his judgment and perception to dodge each and every one of the older’s punches. It’s like a dance— just the two of them, but he and Woojin remain stuck in it together until Guanlin begins to hear the sound of Woojin’s breath getting heavier and heavier, each jab and swing of his fists becoming further and further apart. His accuracy starts to diminish too, which could only mean that Woojin’s is finally starting to cool down. 

 

Guanlin wastes no time. He begins his counterattack, and as he dodges a particularly sharp jab to his body, he drops to the floor, swinging a leg out and tripping up the other boy. Woojin gasps, and while he doesn’t topple over as expected, his shock is evident, and Guanlin immediately takes it as a chance to attack.

 

The taller boy approaches Woojin from behind, wrapping his arms around his neck and putting him in a chokehold. Woojin gasps air, and his fingers claw at Guanlin’s arms, trying to get him to release him, but he doesn’t relent. He keeps his grasp on the other, only letting go when Woojin jabs an elbow into his stomach, sending Guanlin sputtering for air and freeing the other male. 

 

There’s a quick pause as both boys take a moment to catch their breaths, glaring at each other from opposite corners of the mat. Guanlin isn’t sure what it is, but something spurs on his adrenaline, fuels his desire to win this match. Perhaps it would serve as warning; that to those who are thinking of taking his life, he certainly won’t be as easy of an opponent as he seems.

 

Once he’s finally recovered, Guanlin attacks again, moving in Woojin’s direction, and blocking a punch that the shorter male immediately makes, letting it graze his forearm before pushing it aside and grabbing it in his hand. Woojin’s eyes widen as Guanlin awkwardly twists his arm, forcing him to move with his back turned to Guanlin’s front.

 

Immediately, Guanlin takes advantage of this. He quickly uses force to push down on Woojin, using his free hand to press at his shoulder, the other hand twisting his arm to bring him to his knees.

 

_ Win,  _ a voice echoes in his head, and he forces Woojin to his knees. 

 

Woojin cries out, but Guanlin shows no mercy, not until his opponent is forced to to ground, chest pressed to the mat beneath their feet. Guanlin sits on his thighs and presses his hands behind his back, his breath heavy as he holds him down.

 

The whistle blows then, and Guanlin jumps, alerted and surprised.

 

“The winner of this match is Guanlin!” Joohyun announces, her voice ringing clearly through the training hall. 

 

Guanlin freezes then. He blinks once, then twice before he finally loosens his grip on Woojin. Exhausted, his chest fills with air as he pants, struggling to catch his breath. 

 

When he looks up, he finally notices the dozen pairs of eyes staring at him.

 

The other students gape in shock. Seonho’s jaw has dropped, and Shuhua smiles proudly. A few students whisper, but most just stand there dumbstruck, as if they hadn’t expected him to win. Truthfully, he hadn’t been expecting to win either, but a slight twinge of pride does swell within him, knowing that he’s won his first battle here, proved himself to the other students that he isn’t just a pretty face thrown into this ruthless and harsh world full of violence and danger. 

 

Flustered, he finally removes himself from Woojin, helping the older up too before returning to his spot on the edge of the mat. As the next few matches begin, Guanlin can’t help but dwell on his own, replaying scenes in his head of what he had done right and what he could have done better. Still, it doesn’t change how good the victory makes him feel; despite the bad news and hardships that just seem to continue to pile up in his life, this victory reassures him that he isn’t as doomed he thinks, that he could somehow overcome whatever obstacles the future has in store for him.

 

For the first time that he’s joined the Ares Project, Guanlin feels hopeful.

 

—

 

Surprisingly, Guanlin isn’t in the mood to eat when training ends.

 

He’s hungry, of course, but sleep seems to be much more desired, his body still aching from the long and vigorous day. Immediately, he hits the showers, muscles feeling much less tense as hot water cleanses his body. He spends a good amount of time washing up and relaxing before finally deciding it’s time to head back to the dorm.

 

After wrapping a towel around his waist, he pulls the shower curtain back. However, he certainly hadn’t been expecting someone waiting for him to finish up, and the sight of the other male standing in front of him makes him jump, shrieking a little in his surprise.

 

Woojin stands right before him, unbothered and looking up at him with an amused grin. As Guanlin calms himself, he begins to wonder just how long the other had been standing there. Must not have been long, he thinks, judging by how freshly washed up he appears as well.

 

“Relax, I’m not here to hurt you,” he chuckles, shaking his head. Guanlin just glares at him. 

 

“Right,” Guanlin says skeptically. After Jinyoung’s attack and his newfound knowledge of the little assassination game the others have going on, he’s gotten increasingly weary of his fellow peers. Even Seonho, who had approached him often during training had been shunned. Guanlin didn’t want to take his chances with anyone— no one could be trusted.

 

“I mean it!” Woojin does his best to reassure him. “I just wanted to tell you that you fought well today. I admit, I wasn’t expecting for you to defeat me, but you did, and it was pretty damn cool.”

 

At his words, Guanlin blinks at him, awestruck and shocked. Is Woojin praising him? Is that what’s happening right now? Park Woojin, who’s hardly spoken to him at all during his time at the program, who’s ass he had kicked in their last sparring match was  _ praising _ him? Guanlin feels as if he’s being set up somehow.

 

“Thanks…?” he mutters in his uncertainty.

 

“Ah, do you want to come eat dinner with us tonight?” Woojin offers. “I know you usually eat with Seonho and Shuhua, so they can eat with us too, if you want—”

 

“No offense, Woojin,” Guanlin speaks, sharply cutting Woojin off. His tone is harsh, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “But I don’t want to eat with any of you right now.”

 

Then he pushes himself past the other student; Woojin’s obviously left a little appalled, unmoving, even as the other brings himself to exit the washroom, but Guanlin pays no mind to him. Woojin doesn’t deserve his kindness, or an explanation, just as  _ he  _ apparently doesn’t deserve an explanation as to why the entire class wants him dead.

 

Bitter, he trudges to his room, leaving the other student behind.

 

Of course, it’s always a mistake to head to bed without eating dinner, Guanlin immediately finds.

 

His stomach growls as he lies in bed, alone in his dorm. Jihoon is his only roommate now, and he hasn’t seen the other male since this morning, before he had been sent to the infirmary for his bloodied arm. He wonders if he’s still there, or if he’s off getting dinner right about now as well.

 

Guanlin shakes the thought away immediately. There’s no reason for him to be thinking about Jihoon right now. He just wants to sleep, but that doesn’t come easy, especially as his stomach practically begs for food, and he whines as the craving keeps him up, unable to find peace in his sleep.

 

Perhaps he should stop being stubborn and just head down to the dining hall. But dinner’s probably over by now, he thinks. Even if he wanted to eat, he’s missed his chance, and would have to wait until early the next morning to satisfy his hunger.

 

Frustrated, he sighs, tossing and turning incessantly beneath his sheets.

 

Just then, Guanlin hears the door slide open. He freezes immediately before turning around to see who’s entered, and when he meets Jihoon’s big brown eyes, he can’t help but stare for a long moment.

 

It appears that his bandages have been changed again, white gauze wrapped around his shoulder and peeking out from under his sleeves. He looks tired too, but his large round eyes maintain contact with Guanlin’s. 

 

There’s so many things Guanlin wants to say to the other, so many things he wants to ask. Still, both of them remain quiet for a long moment before Jihoon finally breaks the silence. 

 

“You didn’t come down for dinner.”

 

Guanlin raises a brow. “Huh? Oh— oh yeah… I wasn’t hungry—” But immediately following his statement, his stomach grumbles, betraying his words. Guanlin curses under his breath before lying against his pillows again, throwing an arm over his tired eyes.

 

Across the room, Jihoon sighs before approaching him, footsteps thumping softly against the floors. “Here, eat this,” he offers, and Guanlin peeks up at him. In his hand, he holds out two soft dinner rolls, and Guanlin nearly salivates at the sight.

 

“You brought me dinner?” he asks, looking at the other male.

 

“It’s not really dinner, I just grabbed what was left before heading back up. Your friend Seonho cleared up almost everything else,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes.

 

Guanlin sits up then, taking the rolls from the other’s hand with a smile on his face. “Thank you…” he says softly. 

 

Just as he’s about to take a bite from one of them, however, he pauses, bringing the piece of bread away from his lips and narrowing his eyes at the other male. “I’m not eating this,” he says, dropping his hands. Jihoon blinks at him in confusion.

 

“What? Why not?” he asks.

 

“You poisoned them, didn’t you?” Guanlin accuses, pointing his finger. “That’s why you stopped Jinyoung last night, so you could kill me yourself! And you thought saving me would gain me your trust? You’re ridiculous.”

 

Offended, Jihoon scoffs at him. “Ridiculous? If anyone sounds ridiculous right now, it’s you. I’m not trying to kill you, dumbass. It’s just food.”

 

“Prove it then,” Guanlin taunts, shoving the bread at the other’s chest. He has no intentions of eating anything the other gives him— Jihoon is just like everyone else, and cannot be trusted. “Eat it.”

 

Jihoon snorts then, a bewildered look on his face. “I’m not going to eat it! If I eat it, then you won’t have anything to eat.”

 

“I don’t care,” Guanlin states. “Just prove to me you’re not trying to kill me.”

 

A look of annoyance crosses the older’s features before he finally sighs in resignation, tearing apart one of the pieces of bread and shoving in into his mouth. Guanlin watches; the fact that Jihoon’s even taken a bite of the thing should prove that the bread hasn’t been poisoned, but even so, he watches him as he chews, as the bread disappears and as Jihoon swallows it down, Adam’s apple bobbing as the dry food travels down his throat.

 

“Are you happy now?” Jihoon asks. “Now you really don’t get to eat.”

 

Guanlin frowns. His hunger hardly matters right now; rather, the boy in front of him is what captures his attention the most. His eyes flicker to his shoulder, the way the bandages tightly wind around his shoulder. Curiously, Guanlin reaches out to touch it, and he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds that Jihoon doesn’t push him away. Perhaps it’s a technique to build his trust in him, and while Guanlin doesn’t buy it, it’s still nice, his finger gently grazing over the bandages and the ridges in the way that it wraps around his arm.

 

Jihoon looks away, letting out a shaky breath.

 

“Does it hurt?” Guanlin whispers.

 

“No,” Jihoon replies. Guanlin stares at him in disbelief. “I mean, yes. It did. But it doesn’t anymore.”

 

Guanlin can tell he’s lying, and it does nothing to convince him of his honesty. Still, he carries on, pulling his hand away from his shoulder. Jihoon still doesn’t look at him, lips pursed tightly as the younger trains his eyes on him.

 

All the questions he wants to ask suddenly sit at the tip of his tongue; he wants to bombard him with questions, questions he doubts that he’ll even answer, questions he doesn’t even think Jihoon knows all of the answers to. 

 

But even then, only one question manages to find its way past his lips.

 

“Why did you save me, then?”

 

Jihoon finally looks at him then, turning his eyes to face him and blinking at him, as if trying to conceal his emotions. Guanlin can’t read him, not one single bit. His eyes are cold and collected, and as he speaks, Guanlin feels a chill crawling up his spine.

 

“Perhaps you had been right before. I don’t want you dead just yet.”

 

Guanlin gasps sharply, eyes wide as he watches Jihoon walk away again, heels clicking against the floors as he heads for the door. “I’m going to take a shower. Sweet dreams, Guanlin.”

 

With that, Jihoon leaves once again. The room is left empty, just like his stomach, still deprived from food and practically screaming to be fed.

 

But for now, hunger is the last thing on Guanlin’s mind. As he lies down once more and buries himself underneath his blankets, Jihoon’s words echo incessantly in his head. They haunt his dreams and repeat in his nightmares like a broken record that Guanlin can’t seem to figure out how to cease. 

 

_ “I don’t want you dead just yet.”  _

 

His slumber that night is anything but peaceful.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you're all still with me! things are a little confusing right now, and truthfully, this chapter was a little hard to write, but i hope it's still understandable.
> 
> i apologize for such a long wait, school and work are kicking my ass right now, so i can't guarantee fast updates like before ;; sorry! but thank you for reading i appreciate you all!
> 
> twitter: https://twitter.com/wannbyui  
> curiouscat: https://curiouscat.me/wannabyui


	8. EIGHT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took almost a MONTH to update and I'm sooooo sorry, I've been really busy with school and work... ;; Originally it was supposed to all be one chapter, but I split it in two so it isn't too long, and so that the next update won't be too far off, hopefully. I'm not sure how satisfied I am with this chapter, but it really is one of my favorite scenes in the whole fic, so I hope you enjoy!

104..

 

That’s the exact number of bullseyes Guanlin manages to hit during training on one particular day. While the number seems momentous, it’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousands of shots he’s taken in the day, and certainly nothing compared to the number of bullseyes his peers have managed too. Shuhua is on top with at least 500, and Seonho and Youngmin come in extremely close, just barely losing to her. 

 

It’s humiliating, he thinks. He had made himself belief that he had improved so much, when in reality, he’s still stuck in square one, with nothing to show for the rough month that he’s spent here at the Ares Project. Aside from a few sparring battles that he’s won, Guanlin still feels incompetent, as if whatever praise his trainers give is all fabricated, Minhyun’s doing so that he doesn’t feel inclined to drop the program. 

 

Of course, he doesn’t want that. Never mind the idea of his classmates posing a threat to his life, Guanlin wants to improve. To better himself and to know that he didn’t give up, no matter how frustrating or difficult things could get. So no matter how humiliating a mere 104 bullseyes may be, he knows he’s going to make it one day, to Shuhua’s 500, and maybe even more. 

 

But for now, 104 will have to do, as he lowers the rifle in his hand with a sheepish smile. Daniel pats him encouragingly on the back. “Nice work, Guanlin! Your aim is getting better every day, don’t you think?”

 

“I guess so,” he simply shrugs, scratching the back of his head. It’s nice to hear the encouragement, but it falls on deaf ears, and a deaf heart. He still wants to become better; where he is now is certainly not enough. Frustrated, he bites his lip, still staring at the target that stands directly before him, meters away. He creases his brow, frowning at the object in sight. “Maybe I should go another round…”

 

“No,” Daniel says abruptly. “You’ve had enough for today. Go shower up and get some food. You’ve been working too hard, kid, give yourself a break.”

 

The trainer offers him a smile, and Guanlin finds himself easily returning it. Daniel is quite kind he thinks, and perhaps if he weren’t suspicious of everyone in this program, then Daniel would probably be one of the most trustworthy of them all. 

 

Daniel takes Guanlin’s rifle from him and salutes him as he leaves, following out some of the other students that also seem to have finished training for the day. Joining them sounds like a fantastic idea. 

 

Content, Guanlin leaves the room, and just as Daniel says, he hits the showers, rushing through his wash as he stomach growls hungrily.

 

_ — _

 

“Guanlin, come sit with us!” 

 

It’s an invitation that Guanlin’s never imagined himself getting, at least, not in a setting like this, and as Woojin speaks the words, he finds his eyes blinking in disbelief.

 

The dinner hall is bustling by the time he finishes up his shower, students chattering happily and loudly with one another over their meals. Guanlin feels like he’s intruding somehow, especially as he remains shyly to the side of the hall, trying to avoid any kind of direct contact with anyone else.

 

He’s surprised to see Seonho and Shuhua and sitting with the other’s as well _ —  _ Yeeun seems to be absent, along with a few other students. But their absence isn’t too much of a red flag, he thinks.

 

Still, the invitation has Guanlin scanning over the table as it goes quiet, all eyes on him, as if expecting an answer.

 

But he’s still not sure what to say _ —  _ what to  _ do,  _ for that matter. If he says yes, then he’s practically fraternizing with an enemy, or at least, a potential enemy. And even if not everyone decides they want to make an attempt on his life, it’s still dangerous and strange, and Guanlin is uncertain he wants to take such a risk. 

 

He bites on his lip, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his head. “Um, I don’t think I should--”

 

“We won’t bite, Guanlin,” Yerim speaks up, smiling up at him over her dinner. It’s perhaps the first time she’s spoken to him since joining the program. Still, he’s unsure, and his eyes glaze over the table once again.

 

“Come on, have a seat!” says Hyungseob, and he frees up a spot beside him. Guanlin stares at the chair, absentmindedly pacing over to it, knuckles white from his tight grip on his tray.

 

It feels dangerous. Like they’ll quite literally backstab him at any moment now. But as he takes a seat, all he gets are delighted cheers and grateful smiles. A warm welcome, yet it somehow still feels intensely cold and unsafe.

 

“How training going for you, Guanlin?” Donghyun asks from across the table.

 

“Uh,” Guanlin stutters. “Good?”

 

“Seems like you’re getting more comfortable, huh?” says Woojin, flashing a snaggletoothed smile.

 

“Think one of these days, you’ll be able to match up to Jihoonie, here--” Hyungseob jokes, and it earns him a sudden smack on the chest from Woojin. The latter flashes him a look, and it’s only then that Guanlin spots Jihoon sitting there too, on the other side of Woojin, just a few seats away from him. 

 

He looks rather emotionless, Guanlin thinks, sitting in his chair with his food untouched. By now, his shoulder has healed. But Jihoon still hasn’t spoken to him since then, since he had rejected his offer of bread. He doesn’t think that Jihoon is the type to be offended by such an occurrence, though. Perhaps there’s something else that’s on the older assassin’s mind. Guanlin is curious as to what it is.

 

Just then, Jihoon turns to look at him. He abruptly catches his eye, taking Guanlin by surprise. A gasp escapes, and immediately turns down, staring into his bowl as he stirs the contents of it. He swallows hard as someone across from him laughs.

 

“Come on now, you’re gonna scare him off,” Seonho says, rolling his eyes playfully. “Guanlin’s just like us, guys. Still has a lot to learn.”

 

At his words, Guanlin looks up then, raising a brow at the younger. Like us? Guanlin would hardly consider himself anywhere near the level of anyone here. Sure, not all of them are as knowledgeable as one Park Jihoon, or even as sharp as Shuhua, but he’s sure there’s something that makes each of them far more competent and suitable for this program than he is. 

 

“He’ll catch up in no time,” Shuhua adds.

 

“You think so?”

 

“You don’t see how well he does on the training fields? He’ll be at the top of the class before you know it--”

 

And then Guanlin snorts, shaking his head at their words, because really, all of this is too comical to be true. He’s sitting at a table full of people who want him dead, yet they spew praises at him like there’s no tomorrow. It’s ironic, he thinks, and he can’t help but laugh.

 

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks up, “But are we just going to pretend like I don’t know that you all are apart of some big scheme to get me killed? That any one of you could stab me in the throat right now with a fork and get whatever wish you want granted? Yet you all want to tell me how great I’m doing, and that you think I’m going to do well in the future, too. Pardon my language, but it all seems like a bunch of bullshit to me.”

 

The entire cafeteria is silent then. Only the hum of an air conditioner sounds, but no one even  _ breathes,  _ too shocked by Guanlin’s words to make a peep. He’s even caught Jihoon’s attention, who looks at him blankly, blinking as if he’s still processing the words he’s said.

 

And then, a voice.

 

“If it’s a bunch of bullshit to you, then why don’t you just leave?”

 

Guanlin turns his head then. At the opposite end of the table, he spots yet another student that he hadn’t noticed before. Twirling his noodles at the end of a fork, Daehwi rests his chin in his hand, not even bothering to look at Guanlin. Stunned, Guanlin breathes out.  _ “What?”  _

 

It’s only then that Daehwi looks up at him, setting his utensils down as he glares coldly at him. He’s never seen the other with such a foul look on his face, but then again, Guanlin hasn’t really gotten the chance to interact much with him in the first place. Was he always this angry?”

 

“I said,” Daehwi begins, “If it’s a bunch of bullshit, then just leave. It’s obvious you don’t belong here, and if you feel like you’re unsafe, then what’s stopping you from getting up and going? If I were you, I certainly would. Maybe assassins out there will be more quick with ending your life.”

 

By the time he’s done speaking, Guanlin finds himself seething with rage. He wants to snap Daehwi’s neck, jump over the table and strangle him so that he can’t spew another word.

 

But he’s right. Every word that Daehwi says is right. It would be so much easier to just get up and go. He wouldn’t have to deal with this paranoia, this fear that he’ll never be good enough. There’s no reason for him to stay here, and as much as he wishes he could prove Daehwi wrong, he knows the other boy only speaks the cold, hard truth. 

 

He truly doesn’t belong here.

 

Dejected, his eyes fall, staring down at his lap. Across from him, Daehwi sneers.

 

“I knew you were weak. Jinyoung should have killed you that night.”

 

And Guanlin snaps. Rage ignites in his chest. In that moment, there’s absolutely nothing holding him back from attacking Daehwi for his petty words. He snarls before pushing himself out of his seat, the chair toppling backwards as he prepares himself to grab his collar from across the table when a loud bang interrupts him.

 

The dining hall door swings open and slams against the wall, all eyes turning to focus in that direction. Youngmin stands there, eyes wild and panicked, and Guanlin can tell that there’s something horribly wrong.

 

“Guys, somebody’s attacked Yeeun.”

 

Immediately, the hall is filled with collective gasps and shocked, mumbled words. Guanlin’s demeanor changes too, from one of anger to one of fear and worry. Yeeun had been one of their best, how could someone possibly get to her so easily?

 

“What do you mean attacked?” Woojin asks.

 

“I found her in one of the wash rooms,” Youngmin explains. “She doesn’t seem harmed, but she’s unconscious, and we need to help her. I don’t think she just went and did this to herself.”

 

Dinner is immediately forgotten then, as the students simultaneously push out of their chairs, following Youngmin as he he leads them all in Yeeun’s direction. Out of his shock, Guanlin is unable to move, frozen in place, even as the hall begins to empty in the students’ haste.

 

But then he feels a hand around his wrist. It gives a gentle tug, shaking Guanlin out of his stupor. When he looks to see who it is, he sees Jihoon standing there, looking up at him with a determined look on his face. “Let’s go,” he says firmly.

 

He swallows hard before nodding, allowing Jihoon to take him along with him. His heart races as he runs, following the other’s down the hall, worried for Yeeun. He just hopes that nothing serious has happened to her. At the same time, it makes him wonder just how dangerous this program could possibly be. If it subjects them to dangerous weapons and even more dangerous people, then safety certainly isn’t guaranteed. Guanlin can attest to that himself with his current predicament, but he never imagined that another student would ever be targeted as well. Especially not one as low profile as Yeeun.

 

When they arrive at the wash room, sure enough, Yeeun is lying there on the floor, unconscious, but thankfully still breathing, and in the arms of someone that Guanlin certainly had not be expecting.

 

Minhyun.

 

It feels like it’s been forever since he’s seen the director. The same man that’s turned his peers against him now sits on the wash room floor beside on of those peers, holding her as if he wants to help, as if he’s worried about her.

 

But then when he looks up at his students, he merely grins, running a gentle hand through Yeeun’s soft locks. “She’s fine,” he announces. “Just passed out.”

 

But the answer doesn’t sit well with Guanlin, and apparently it doesn’t sit well with the other students either, as they all glare suspiciously at Minhyun, betrayal and hurt present in their eyes.

 

“What did you do,” Shuhua whispers under her breath, as if trying to keep herself collected. 

 

Guanlin, on the other hand, doesn’t have the same self-control that Shuhua has. As he growls, he feels a hand squeeze around his, as if trying to calm him down, but the effort is futile, as Guanlin spits at him anyways, “I swear, if you did this…”

 

“I didn’t,” Minhyun speaks immediately. “One of you did.”

 

“What?” Guanlin blinks.

 

The room suddenly fills with an abundance murmurs, students looking around at each other with confused looks upon their faces. Guanlin himself doesn’t understand either; all that he knows is that Yeeun is lying unconscious in front of him and  _ somebody _ had to have done it, and that somebody is looking a lot like Hwang Minhyun in this moment.

 

“You’re lying,” Guanlin seethes. “You’re just saying that to take the blame off of yourself.”

 

Despite his accusation, Minhyun just chuckles, shaking his head once more as he pushes himself off the ground, carefully heaving Yeeun into his arms as well. Her lifeless body sends an uneasy chill down Guanlin’s back. “Ever heard of the game mafia?”

 

“Mafia?” Youngmin asks, blinking at the director. “What does that have to do with what’s going on here…?”

 

Minhyun doesn’t reply. Instead, he just looks over them, as if expecting one of the to understand what’s going on. Guanlin can’t wrap his head around it all.

 

“I understand,” a voice finally says. Jihoon. Guanlin turns to his fellow assassin, eyes locked on him as he explains. “We’re playing a real life game of mafia here, aren’t we? Someone among us ‘killed’ Yeeun, and we have to find out who it was.”

 

“Sharp, aren’t you?” Minhyun praises before nodding in confirmation. “This is your second test. Find the mafias amongst your group. There are three of them. After each ‘murder,’ you have five minutes to discuss who you think has committed the crime. If you accuse the right person, then you will have successfully found a mafia. And if you pick the wrong person, then you’ll aid their victory. Mafias have twenty minutes to make a kill, and they already know who they are. The whole building is your battleground, so play wisely. Any questions?”

 

Guanlin’s face drops into a frown. He understands now, but he truly wishes that he didn’t. It seems as if this game only serves to further his distrust for his peers. Guanlin knows he’s not a mafia. But for all he knows, anyone else could be one, like his innocent and playful friend Seonho, or even Jihoon, who’s still got his hand loosely wrapped around his. Even he suddenly seems less trustworthy, and Guanlin hates just how uneasy the thought makes him feel.

 

No one opens their mouths for questions. Most just seem shocked, as if they’re unable to process the information they’ve been given. Guanlin tries to make note of all of their expressions, hoping that it may help later in trying to uncover the mafia.

 

He really doesn’t want to play this game, but really, what choice does he have?

 

“No questions? Excellent,” Minhyun hums. “Your five minutes of discussion begins now.”

 

The students all grumble and sigh, looking amongst themselves. Guanlin can tell that most of them are determined to uncover the truth behind Yeeun’s attack, but Guanlin doesn’t feel the same. This game seems ridiculous and childish to him, but with Minhyun moderating so closely, he knows he can’t refuse.

 

As the students all gather, each of them begin to analyze each other, reading each other’s faces to see who has something to hide, whose expressions may give a way some kind of hint to their status.

 

“It was you, wasn’t it, Youngmin. You found her, after all,” Woojin begins with the first accusation. Youngmin sputters in shock, eyes widening in disbelief.

 

“M-me? I wouldn’t…” I just found her here when I stopped by the wash room before dinner. I swear it wasn’t me.”

 

“You and her the only ones that hadn’t been down for dinner yet,” Yerim adds. “It has to be you.”

 

“I swear, I didn’t do it! Come on, guys, believe me!” Youngmin pleads. Guanlin stares at him, as do the other students. His act is convincing, but Guanlin knows that the evidence against Yougmin is way too obvious. An easy win, he thinks to himself.

 

“I think it’s Youngmin too,” Guanlin adds. Other’s begins to chime in in agreement as well.

 

“I don’t think it was him,” Jihoon announces. The sudden statement captures everyone’s attention. “He doesn’t seem to be lying about not being the one that attacked her. But there is something that you’re hiding.”

 

Youngmin swallows hard under Jihoon’s scrutinizing gaze. The younger is certainly intimidating, and as he stares at him, Guanlin wonders just how long Youngmin will last before cracking under the pressure. “What do you know, hyung?”

 

But Youngmin just shakes his head. “Nothing.”

 

“Liar,” Jihoon accuses, voice cold and dripping with venom. “What do you know?”

 

“I don’t know anything, I swear--”

 

“You know what I think?” Jihoon begins, stepping forward towards the other male. Though he’s shorter, Youngmin still cowers as Jihoon approaches, until he’s backed against the washroom’s tiled walls. Jihoon keeps some space between them, but their closeness still brings discomfort to the older male. “I think you’re not the mafia. But you know who is. And you’re helping them escape. Am I right?”

 

Youngmin responds with silence, downcast eyes that seem to be enough proof to Jihoon that he’s right. The younger smirks, and the cold look on his face is enough to bring unease to every other person in the room.

 

“Well? Who is it? Who are you protecting, hyung?” Jihoon taunts.

 

“If that’s true,” Yerim speaks up suddenly. Her gentle voice is a stark contrast from Jihoon’s own startling tone, yet there’s still conviction in the way that she speaks, presenting what evidence she has. “Then it has to be Donghyun.”

 

“Huh?” Donghyun blinks. “Me? Why me?”

 

“You’re Youngmin’s best friend, aren’t you?” Yerim explains, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Who else would he cover up for?”

 

“He’s not covering up for me, I’ll tell you that. Why? Because I’m not the mafia,” he explains, trying to feign disbelief at the accusation. But even Guanlin can see past his facade; Donghyun is lying. He’s been caught, and he doesn’t know how to act, how to lie with his truth threatening to be exposed.  

 

The others can see it too; Guanlin watches as realization flickers in everyone’s eyes. Jihoon smirks then, his gaze turning from a defeated Youngmin to Donghyun, who still tries to play innocent, despite being found out. “Minhyun,” Jihoon begins, never turning his eyes away from the accused, “I think we’ve found our mafia.”

 

Guanlin had almost forgotten that Minhyun had been standing there as well, but as he looks on at the scene that unfolds behind him, he finds a smile plastered upon his lips, amusement present in his handsome features. Curiously, he raises a brow at the lot of students. “Have you now? Are you sure?”

 

“Positive,” Jihoon affirms. 

 

Minhyun nods. “Very well. If you believe that Donghyun is the mafia that attacked Yeeun, then please raise your hand.”

 

The vote is unanimous; aside from Donghyun, and surprisingly Youngmin as well, everyone raises a hand into the air. Guanlin raises his too, the evidence far too compelling for him to believe anything but what’s been theorized.

 

“Then a decision has been made.” Minhyun hums. Then he turns to Donghyun, raising his brow at the student. “Donghyun, are you the mafia?”

 

Donghyun doesn’t speak. He merely nods his head in confirmation as he hangs it in shame.

 

“Well I must admit it was smart of you to try and frame Youngmin for your crime, but it seems that strategy didn’t quite work out, did it?” Minhyun says. “Donghyun, you are eliminated from the game, please follow me. As for the rest of you…. Congratulations. You found one mafia. Let’s hope you’re just as lucky with finding the other two as well. Your next twenty minutes starts now.”

 

With that, Minhyun leaves with both Yeeun and Donghyun in tow. Guanlin doesn’t ask, but he’s at least hoping that Minhyun goes to give Yeeun some kind of proper medical treatment. If anything, some rest would be good too, especially if she’s only passed out. Guanlin thinks it may be the work of tranquilizers to insure an easy and harmless kill. 

 

Though Donghyun looks disappointed with his failure, Guanlin finds satisfaction in their first round of success. Perhaps this game isn’t as pointless and boring as he had thought it would be. Excited, he looks around, but most of his fellow peers don’t seem to be as enthusiastic as he is.

 

Most of them look serious. Some of them have already walked out the door, in search of a new hiding spot, so they do not become the mafia’s next victim. Even Jihoon, who had seem so satisfied with himself for being able to get the truth out of Donghyun seems focused once more, and without another word, he’s stealthily moving out of the room, intent on getting as far away from the mafia as possible.

 

Guanlin supposes he should do the same.

 

_ — _

 

Twenty minutes goes by rather slowly, Guanlin finds. By the time he finds his hiding place somewhere on the second floor, only ten minutes have passed. He has another ten to kill, and while his foot falls asleep from being trapped in such a small space, he doesn’t want to risk being seen by one of the mafias.

 

A stack of unemptied crates that linger in one of the hallways proves to be the perfect hiding spot. Though it doesn’t do much for his long legs, at least it keeps him concealed, in case the mafia were to come cross him. 

 

For a while, he simply relaxes, waiting for the round to be called so he can stretch his legs out again. But then he hears something dangerously near; footsteps that are too slow and cautious as they approach.

 

Guanlin freezes, holds his breath for good measure. Though it’s merely a game, there’s still some kind of thrill and terror in the chance that he might get caught. Besides, if he  _ is  _ to be targeted by a mafia, his vulnerable state could easily lead to an assassination attempt too. Guanlin has to be extra careful. 

 

As the footsteps get closer, he feels his heart start to beat faster in his chest. The sound is so loud as it rings in his ears that he fears the mafia might hear it. They’re extremely close now, and Guanlin starts to wonder if he’s been found out. With footsteps echoing against the linoleum floors, he listens carefully, trembling in fear. A shadow casts over the crates, and he can barely make out a male silhouette. There’s no doubt about it _ —  _ he’s been found out. 

 

The crate that covers his head slowly starts to move, and Guanlin prepares himself for the worst. Perhaps he’ll kick the boxes to cause a scene. Maybe it’ll draw attention so that in the case that  _ is _ attacked by the mafia, then at least his fellow citizens may have a hint as to who it is. 

 

With the crate fully pushed aside, Guanlin looks up, making sure to get a good look at the mafia’s face. He certainly doesn’t expect big brown eyes that seem to fill with worry at the sight of him. 

 

“Guanlin?”

 

The assassin blinks. “Jihoon?”

 

Jihoon just stares down at him, as if he’s surprised to see him sitting there. He takes a cautious look around them, scanning his surrounding before he looks back at Guanlin, brows creased in anger. “What are you doing here? This is the worst hiding spot, someone is going to find you.”

 

At that, Guanlin raises a brow. “You mean you’re not a mafia..?”

 

“I’m not,” Jihoon confirms. “Don’t think another mafia would turn against his own team during our discussion.”

 

True, Guanlin thinks, but Jihoon’s presence still makes him uneasy. If his hiding place really does stink, then they’re both at risk of being found. Perhaps they should split, or better yet, find a different place to hide altogether. Guanlin doesn’t want to be found at all.

 

And then the idea hits him. 

 

His eyes light up, and Jihoon seems to notice it as well, as his face contorts into a look of confusion. “What is it?” he asks.

 

“I just had an idea. What if we--?”

 

But then he’s cut off as Jihoon abruptly shushes him, pressing his fingers to his lips and leans in close. Guanlin gasps, blinking questioningly at the other as he stands unnaturally still and quiet. He’s about to open his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Jihoon finally makes his move, pushing a few crates aside before squeezing in beside Guanlin, much to his utter shock and bewilderment. 

 

Before he can ask, Jihoon moves the crates to hide them again, then slaps a hand over Guanlin’s mouth. “Someone is coming.”

 

_ Oh. _

 

It makes sense now, and Guanlin suddenly feels a little silly for not realizing it earlier. As he goes quiet, he can hear the footsteps approaching too, and his heartbeat starts to pick up again, though perhaps it’s not just the impending danger that’s approaching that causes it.

 

Jihoon is extremely close. With the small space that their hiding spot provides, his body presses up against his, an arm slinged over his shoulders, and his cheek pressed closely to his chest. His cheeks turn warm and red, and he wonders if Jihoon can feel how quickly his heart beats. 

 

This isn’t apart of the game. But maybe it’s not such a bad thing, either. 

 

It’s then that Guanlin notices the small crack in between the crates that are stacked in front of him. A small sliver of light peeks through, and while he doubts that anyone could see him, he could certainly see them, were they to walk by.

 

And sure enough, someone approaches. They walk with slow, heavy footsteps, as if they want to be careful with each move that they make. 

 

It’s Youngmin, he realizes. Briefly, he wonders if maybe he  _ is  _ a mafia, and they had been wrong in assuming that he was merely a scapegoat for the mafia’s plans.

 

But then the unexpected happens. Guanlin hears a quiet whistle pierce the silent air, and Youngmin suddenly gasps, stopping in his tracks. He feels his heart skip a beat as the suspense escalates, and Jihoon seems to press his hand even firmer against his mouth, like he’s worried that Guanlin might make a sound and spoil their location.

 

Youngmin drops to his knees then before falling to the ground altogether. Guanlin watches him struggle, as he tries to pull himself back up, but it’s no use. The tranquilizer dart that’s lodged into his neck is a clear indicator of his fate _ —  _ he’s been targeted and killed by the mafia.

 

So it’s not Youngmin, he figures. But if not him, then who?

 

“Sorry, but if you weren’t able to keep Donghyun’s status a secret, then how can we know you’ll keep ours? We can’t risk you giving us away, can we?”

 

To Guanlin, the voice is oddly familiar, and not just in the sense that he’s acquainted with them through this program, but that it’s someone he’s gotten to get fairly close with in his time here. The voice is female too, which doesn’t leave very many options.

 

Long black hair that sways as she walks away is a dead giveaway.

 

Shuhua is a mafia.

 

Guanlin waits and waits, waits until the sound of her disappearing footsteps can no longer be heard. He let’s Jihoon make the final call, however, and when the other male finally releases his hold on him, he let’s out a small sigh of relief, standing to relieve his aching limbs.

 

“Shuhua is a mafia,” Jihoon states as he peers over the crates at Youngmin’s still body. He can still make out the faint rise and fall of his breaths, but other than that, he’s completely unconscious. Guanlin stares with an uneasy expression as Jihoon pushes his way out of their hiding spot.

 

Jihoon sighs then. “Well, at least we can easily take her down… Guanlin, are you okay?”

 

At the sound of his name, Guanlin looks up at Jihoon with a start, a deer in the headlights look present in his eyes. He creases his brow in confusion. “Huh?”

 

“You don’t look too well. Your face is all red and you’re just staring off into space.”

 

Guanlin blushes even deeper at Jihoon’s words. He hadn’t realized that his face is still red, as a result of Jihoon’s closeness. As he touches his cheek, he can still feel warmth radiating upon it, Jihoon’s touch still lingering over it. He bites his lip shyly but nodding his head, looking away from the other male. “I’m fine… Just hope this game is over soon, I guess…”

 

Jihoon seems to be unconvinced, but he doesn’t push it, looks down at Youngmin again before deciding to help him off the floor, resting his head in his lap and gently brushing his hair from his face. “He’ll be okay, but it’s probably better that we don’t let him just lay there like that…”

 

Guanlin raises his brow curiously at his actions. “Hm? Do you have a soft spot for Youngmin? Or are you just always this gentle?”

 

The other assassin frowns then, offering a dirty look at Guanlin. “Shut up.”

 

“You’re not as scary as you think you are,” Guanlin replies without hesitation. Jihoon merely rolls his eyes, earning a small laugh from the younger boy. 

 

But it’s true; though intimidating, Guanlin is certain that there’s more to Jihoon than the mysterious and brooding image he seems to show. He’s proven that with the length he had go to in order to protect him from Jinyoung, and his care for Youngmin now only furthers his belief. And while Jihoon may have other motives that he’s unaware of, he’s still positive that there’s definitely more to Park Jihoon than meets the eye.

 

Minutes pass, and eventually, someone else finally approaches. Guanlin looks over, and when he spots Daniel walking in their direction, he stands to bow politely at the trainer.

 

“There’s no need for that,” Daniel laughs, shaking his head at Guanlin. “I’m just here to collect Youngmin so I can take him to the infirmary. Looks like you guys found him before I could.”

 

Jihoon shrugs. “Yeah, we were just around at the right time, I guess.”

 

“Or the wrong time,” Daniel suggests.

 

“Huh?” 

 

But Daniel doesn’t respond. Instead, he merely lifts Youngmin’s body from Jihoon’s lap, holding him in his arms before carefully throwing him over his shoulder. Suddenly the building’s intercom alarm sounds. A voice rings through, and Guanlin easily recognizes it as Minhyun’s.

 

“Attention students, a victim has been found. Please report to the second floor in the east wing hallway for discussion.”

 

The intercom shuts off then, and Guanlin let’s out a soft sigh. This round should be easy, he hopes.

 

“What was your idea?” Jihoon speaks up. Guanlin blinks at him.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Earlier, before Youngmin came, you said you had an idea, but you didn’t finish what you were saying,” Jihoon explains.

 

Oh, that. Guanlin rubs sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Well, it’s just that if we stick together, then in the case that one of us gets attacked, then there will definitely be someone to report to the rest of the group about what they saw.”

 

Jihoon hums in understanding before rubbing at his chin. “Hmm… That’s not a bad idea… There are some flaws, of course, but overall, it could help… You’re definitely not a mafia, right?”

 

Guanlin just snorts. “Do I look like a mafia to you? Don’t think another mafia would turn against his own team _ — _ ” he teases, mimicking his earlier words. Jihoon just rolls his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile that sneaks upon his lips.

 

In no time, the other students begin to fill the hallway, and the reaction to Youngmin’s attack is mostly disappointment. It’s obvious that most had been expecting him to be another mafia, especially after coming to Donghyun’s offense. His sudden demise undoubtedly has caused some confusion.

 

Shuhua is the best actor of them all. When she arrives, she appears upset at the sight of her victim’s unconscious body as it rests in Daniel’s arms. He has to commend his friend, however. If he hadn’t seen her, he certainly would have never guessed her to be one of the mafia.

 

When all of them finally arrive, Daniel gives them all the okay to move forward. “You all know the drill,” he says. “Five minutes.”

 

“So Youngmin wasn’t a mafia after all…” Seonho says, biting his lip.

 

“I’m stumped,” Hyungseob says, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Me too,” adds Shuhua. Guanlin scoffs, and it catches her attention. She looks at him, puzzled with his sudden outburst.

 

“Sorry, but aren’t you the mafia?”

 

Shuhua’s eyes widen at the accusation before she peers around the room, uncomfortable at the idea of so many eyes suddenly on her. She sputter in disbelief before shaking her head. “I’m sorry? I can promise you that I’m definitely not the mafia. I was on the third floor hiding the entire time, so it couldn’t have been me.” 

 

“But we heard you,” Jihoon adds, his arms folded over his chest. “You killed him because you didn’t want him to accidentally give away more mafias during discussion, right?”

 

“I didn’t kill him,” she defends herself, seemingly becoming desperate. Her act is much more convincing than Youngmin’s or Donghyun’s, but Guanlin knows the truth. Jihoon does, too.

 

“If you didn’t, then who did?” Jihoon asks.

 

“You, probably,” she retorts. “You’re accusing me so you don’t look suspicious.”

 

“Actually,” Yerim begins, “I was the third one to arrive at the scene. When I got here, Jihoon was already here, and Guanlin too. Maybe he just stayed behind and waited for everyone else to get here after he killed him.”

 

“Wrong,” Jihoon states. “I stayed behind after I watched Shuhua kill him.”

 

“You’re lying _ —! _ ”

 

“It’s true, actually,” Guanlin finally speaks up again, nodding as everyone looks to him. “I was with Jihoon at the time, and we were hidden when Shuhua attacked Youngmin from behind. We hid right behind these _ —”  _ He reaches behind him and pats the sturdy creates, hoping that the solid evidence and Guanlin’s specific recollection of the occurrence will help prove Jihoon’s innocence.

 

“... It’s true then?” Woojin asks, looking at Shuhua again. Shuhua’s façade slowly begins to fade away, as the worry that she might lose this round starts to settle in. 

 

But then, someone else takes the opportunity to speak.

 

“How do we know that the two of you aren’t mafias?”

 

The accusation comes from Daehwi, and if he’s being honest, Guanlin is surprised to hear him speak so suddenly. Their quarrel in the dining hall comes to mind, and as Daehwi continues to speak, Guanlin finds himself staring at the other male in annoyance. Daehwi is really starting to get on his nerves.

 

“Maybe you’re just saying you were with Jihoon so that it seems like he had an alibi at the time of Youngmin’s death. But maybe you’re just covering for him, like how Youngmin did for Donghyun. Or maybe you’re both the mafia.” 

 

Guanlin frowns, trying his best not to lose his cool. “Why would Jihoon sell out one of his own and accuse Donghyun of being the mafia earlier? You’re insane if you think the mafia is one of us. Maybe it’s you? Not protecting Shuhua now, are you?”

 

The suggestion makes Daehwi’s scowl deepen, and it brings satisfaction to Guanlin before he turns to Shuhua again. She looks as if she’s desperately racking her brain for more lies and fake stories that she can give, but it’s become obvious that she’s out of ideas. They have her, and now they just need a killing blow. 

 

“Wait,” Hyungseob interjects. Shuhua turns to him. “You said you were on the third floor hiding. Where exactly were you?”

 

Shuhua stiffens, but manages to stutter out a reply anyways. “One of the storage rooms for weapons…”

 

“That’s false,” Hyungseob shakes his head. “I was hiding there. And there most definitely wasn’t anyone in there with me.”

 

Checkmate.

 

Guanlin grins, turning to the long-haired assassin, who truly seems to be at a loss now. All the evidence points to her, and all that’s needed now is a vote, and her fate will be sealed.

 

“Daniel,” Guanlin starts. “We’re ready to vote.”

 

“Is that so?” Daniel says, raising an eyebrow. “In that case, who do you believe is the mafia?”

 

“Shuhua,” Guanlin replies.

 

“Very well,” Daniel nods. “If you believe that Shuhua is the mafia, then please raise your hand.”

 

Like last time, the answer is unanimous. Even Daehwi, who had doubted Guanlin and Jihoon raises his hand, though he seems somewhat reluctant to do so. As everyone else raises their hand as well, Guanlin wears a look of triumph over his face. 

 

Daniel smiles then as he notes their vote. “Congratulations. You caught the second mafia.”

 

A round of relieved sighs fills the room; Shuhua hangs her head in defeat before she follows Daniel out of the room. With the wave of his hand, he signals the beginning of the third, and hopefully the last (Guanlin hopes) round of the game.

 

The victories seem so short lived, like they barely have time to catch their breaths before they’re thrown back into the game again. But Guanlin doesn’t complain. Rather, he turns to Jihoon again as the crowd begins to disperse, hoping to team up with him once more.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he spots Daehwi, too. The other has a menacing look in his eye as he walks away, disappearing out of sight. Guanlin immediately becomes wary, turns to Jihoon once as Daehwi is out of sight.

 

“Jihoon… I think Daehwi might be…”

 

“He’s the other mafia,” Jihoon replies, confirming Guanlin’s thoughts. 

 

Even without an attack, Daehwi’s previous outburst had been suspicious, and Guanlin can only come to the conclusion that he had came to Shuhua’s defense in hopes of taking the blame off of his fellow mafia. Guanlin is certain that Daehwi must be the last one. 

 

“He’s going to come after one of us, because he knows we know,” Jihoon says pursing his lips in thought. Guanlin looks at him worriedly. Daehwi might not be the strongest assassin of their bunch, but in an unpredictable game like this, he’s not sure what to expect.

 

“What do we do then?”

 

Jihoon just looks up at him, a look of fierce determination burning in his eyes. “Let him.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: https://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> curiouscat: https://curiouscat.me/wannabyui

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: http://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> curiouscat: http://curiouscat.me/wannabyui


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